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DOMESTIC HISTORY 



OF THE 



AMERICAN REVOLUTION 




ITll^JAr^ ALLl 



DOMESTIC HISTORY 



OF THE 



AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 



BY 



MRS. ELLET 



ILLUSTRATED 



PHILADELPHIA: . _ ..'^ 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 

187G. 



V^.V^^. VA^I 



Entered accordinef to Act of Congress, in the 3ear 1850, bj' 

BAKE F. AND SCRIBNER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southeno 

District ol New York. 



Copyright, 1876, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 



e 






^ 



PREFACE 



The design and plan of the present work are entirely new. 
Its object is to exhibit the spirit and character of the Revolu- 
tionary period ; to portray, as far as possible in so brief a 
record, the social and domestic condition of the times, and 
the state of feeling among the people, with something of the 
services and experience of a class not usually noticed among 
those whose names live in historical remembrance. With 
this view, a short and comprehensive narrative of the succes- 
sive events of the war is interspersed with domestic details 
and anecdotes illustrative of the state of the country at va- 
rious intervals. 

INIy researches during some years past in collecting authen- 
tic materials for "The Women of the American. Revolution," 
have brought to light many interesting incidents connected 
with the war, so strikingly characteristic of the times, that 
they should not be suffered to pass into oblivion. These are 
sparingly used, because more of them would have swelled the 
volume to an unsuitable size ; and all that possessed merely a 



VI PREFACE. 

personal interest have been excluded. It has also been found 
necessary to omit the minor details of military movements, 
which form the bulk of almost every history of the war. 
This omission, I think, will prove an advantage. The 
most attentive reader of history seldom retains in his memory 
more than the prominent incidents, losing sight of minute 
and complicated particulars as soon as he rises from his 
Btudies ; it may be questioned, therefore, whether it be not 
useless to perplex the learner with a multitude of details com- 
paratively unimportant. I cannot help believing, too, that a 
really better idea of the Revolution may be obtained from 
anecdotes that exhibit the spirit which was abroad among all 
classes, and which prompted to action, than from the most 
accurate transcript of the manoeuvres by which different 
battles were lost and won, and the most precise statement of 
the number engaged, or of killed and wounded on either side. 
Accordingly I have given in general merely the date and 
locality of the principal battles, with the names of the leaders 
who were most conspicuous. 

Wherever account is given of individual experience, it is 
for the purpose of showing what many did or suffered. An 
inadequate conception of the character of that heroic age of 
the Republic is afforded by general tradition, and it is only by 
collating such authentic records of individual action and endur- 
ance as have been preserved, that a correct idea may be formed 
The great Duke of Marlborough once said he had learned 
English history from the dramas of Shakspeare ; and we all 



PREFACE. Vll 

know the effect of a historical romance in impressing events 
on the memory ; how much greater should be the advantage 
derived from domestic pictures drawn from actual life ovei 
those which are at best but admirable imitations ! 

To guard against misapprehension, it is proper to say, that 
in this attempt to present in a new and interesting light the 
history of our struggle for national existence, there is nothing 
of fiinciful embellishment. I hold in just aversion the ro- 
mancing trash under which, at the present day, the simple 
and picturesque — because simple — realities of our American 
story seem in danger of being buried. Not only has no aid 
of fiction been employed, but no traditional matter has been 
introduced, unless sustained by indisputable authority. 

It will be observed that I have entered rather closely into 
the story of the war in the upper districts of South Carolina. 
One reason for this is — that no history has ever yet done jus- 
tice to that section of country, or to the actors who there 
bore their part in the struggle ; another — that its partisan 
warfare was eminently domestic. Not only were neighbors 
divided and arrayed against each other, but the demon of civil 
discord invaded dwellings, and scowled ue-iide the sacred 
hearthstone ; in many cases it was literally true that a man's 
foes were those of his own household. This state of things 
gave rise to an unusual variety of picturesque and romantic 
incidents, from a large store of which but few are selected, — 
those which merely display the patriotism, fortitude, or 
prowess of individuals, not being suited to my purpose. 



Vlll PREFACE. 

In recording incidents of the war at the South, I have not 
relied on unsupported tradition. The military movements in 
that region are detailed in some manuscript records prepared 
by prominent actors in the scenes described. For a sight of 
these valuable documents I am indebted to Daniel G-. Stinson, 
Esq., of Chester District, South Carolina, whose aid I have 
had occasion to acknowledge in another work. 

I have not thought it best, by enumerating authorities, to 
embarrass the volume with notes ; but it is not proper to pass 
without acknowledgement the assistance derived from Mr. 
Willson's and Mr. Henry's general compendium s, among 
others, and my obligations to Henry Onderdonk, Jr., Esq., 
for the notices of the British prisons and prison ships at New 
York, with the account of the Illicit Trade on Long Island 
Sound, and the Whaleboat Warfare ; as well as for other mat- 
ters of interest gleaned from his work. Collins' History of 
Kentucky, with other books on the subject, has been consult- 
ed in the brief sketch of early settlements at the "West. 

E. F. E. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 

Faob 
The British Colonies in North America 13 



CHAPTER n. 
Difficulties with Great Britain 23 

CHAPTER HI. 
Commencement of the War kS 

CHAPTER IV. 

State of Society— Female Influence— Evacuation of Boston— Attempt at the 

South— Battle of Moore's Creek 39 

CHAPTER V. 
Declaration of Independence — Female Spy — Battle of Long Island .45? 

CHAPTER VI. 
Occupation of New York— State of the Country— Retreat through New Jer- 
sey— American Successes 59 



.X CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Page 

Sentimentof Europe— Winter Quarters— New Attempt on Philadelphia— Oc- 
cupation— March of Burgoyne — Murder of Jane McCrea 72 

CHAPTER VIII. 
The Battles of Saratoga— the Prisoners at Cambridge 85 

CHAPTER IX. 
Female Agency— Valley Forge— State of Philadelphia 96 

CHAPTER X. 
British Prisons in New York 106 

CHAPTER XI. 

British Prison Ships— The Illicit Trade on Long Island Sound— Whaleboat 
Warfare 118 

CHAPTER XII. 

The French Alliance— The Mischiairea— Battle of Monmouth— Condition of 
the Country 129 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Indinn Depredations — The Massacres at Wyoming and Cherry Valley 14C 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Attack on the South— Subjugation of Georgia— Scenes in South Carolina- 
Siege of Savannah— Close of the Campaign of 1779 I6l 

CHAPTER XV. 

''/ftrnpaign of 1780 — Surrender of Charleston — Conquest of South Carolina 

First Outbreak of Renewed Resistance 166 



CONTEN rS. XI 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Paoe 

A Scotch-Irish Settlement— Result of Martin's Preaching— Battle at Mobley's 

Moeting-House 175 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Incursions of Huck— Battle at Williamson's— " Bloody Bill Cunningham.". . .184 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
Battles of Rocky Mount and Hanging Rock— Surprise at Fishing Creek. . . 195 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Surprise of Steel— Condition of the Country 205 

CHAPTER XX. 

The Warning at Green Spring— Battle of King's Mountain— Blackstocks— 
State of Charleston and the Country 218 

CHAPTER XXI. 
State of the Country in other Districts , 229 

CHAPTER XXII. 
Incursion into New Jersey— Indian Ravages in the Valky of the Mohawk. .239 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Treason of Arnold — Contributions in Philadelphia — Revolt of Pennsylvania 

Troops— Greene at the South— Battle of the Cowpens 249 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Kotreat of Greene— Return— Battles of Guilford and Hobkirk's Hill— Fort 
Motte 263 



XU CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Page 

Attack on Ninety-Six— Battle of Eutaw— March of Cornwallis into Virginia- 
Siege of Yorktown— Burning of New London— Surrender of Cornwallis..278 

CHAPTER XXVI. 
Early Settlements at the West— Kentucky— Tennessee . , , , 291 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Conclusion 803 



DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE BRITISH COLONIES IN NORTH AMERICA. 

It is well known that Christopher Columbus discovered the 
New World in 1492. The first navigators who reached the 
American continent were John Cabot and his son Sebastian, 
who sailed from England and arrived at the coast of Labrador 
in June, 1497. The French employed discoverers and took 
possession of lands chiefly in the northern part of the country, 
while the Spaniards claimed Florida, and finally established 
the first permanent European settlement on our shores. 

The several attempts made to plant colonies within the 
limits of the United States, in the sixteenth century, proved 
unsuccessful, and no permanent settlement was made before 
1607. Sir Walter Raleigh, having received from Queen Eli- 
zabeth a transfer of the patent granted to Sir Humphrey Gil- 
bert, in 1584 visited a portion of the coast. The report 
brought by the navigators to the queen was so flattering that 



14 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

she gave the new country the name of Virginia, in honor of a 
virgin sovereign. The whole region between the thirty-fourth 
and forty -fifth degrees of north latitude was thus called. In 
the reign of James I. it was granted by royal charter to two 
companies formed to settle it ; the southern part, named 
South Virginia, to a company of merchants called the London 
Company ; and the northern, or North Virginia, to a corpo- 
ration called the Plymouth Company. 

In 1607 the colonization of Virginia was commenced un- 
der the auspices of the London Company. The first settle- 
ment was made at Jamestown. Captain John Smith was the 
ieader in this enterprise, and had many adventures. Being 
taken captive by the Indians, he was condemned to death by 
Powhatan, the chief of the savage confederacy, but saved by 
Pocahontas, the chief's young daughter. Smith learned much 
from the Indians, gained their confidence and good will, and 
supported his companions by his energy and activity. His ge- 
nius and wise management established the colony. After his 
return from Virginia, he explored the north-eastern coast of 
the United States, and Prince Charles, at his suggestion, gave 
that country the name of New England. 

The Dutch began to settle New York in 1613. They 
established themselves on the island of Manhattan, now New 
York. A naval force from Jamestown, under Capt. Argall, 
in the same year compelled the Dutch to submit to the au- 
thority of the British monarch. In 1664 the English finally 
conquered and took possession of the colony. 

Two unsuccessful attempts were made in the beginning of 
the century, to form settlements in New England, by the Ply- 



CHAPTER I. 15 

mouth Company and Capt. Siiiitli ; but the first permanent 
one — the colony of Plymouth — was formed by the Pilgrims 
in 1620. These were Puritans, dissenters from the Church 
of England. Being by law required, under the heaviest pen- 
alties, to attend the established worship, they quitted their 
country, and sought in Holland " freedom to worship God" 
accordino: to their own consciences. The distresses suffered 
there determine d them to remove to the wilds of America. 
They procured a patent from England, sailed from Plymouth 
in a small vessel called the May Flower, and landed on Ply- 
mouth rock, Dec. 21st, 1620. They suffered much from hard- 
ship and sickness, yet trusted in the protection of the God for 
whose sake they had left home and friends, and who was to 
mak'C of them a great people. 

The settlement of New Hampshire was begun in 1623, at 
the mouth of the Piscataqua River, and afterwards at Dover, 
Portsmouth and Exeter. In 1628 the colony of Massachu- 
setts Bay was established under a grant of lands from the 
Plymouth Company. Salem was first settled, and afterwards 
Charlestown, Boston, and other towns in the vicinity. This 
colony in 1641 received under its government the settlements 
in New Hampshire; but in 1679 New Hampshire was made 
a separate province by royal ordinance. In 1692 the Ply- 
mouth and Massachusetts colonics were incorporated into one. 
Maine, settled in 1629, was united to Massachusetts in 1652. 
New Jersey was settled by the Danes about 1624. Some 
Dutch families soon afterwards planted themselves near New 
York. The country was conquered in 1655 by Peter Stuyve- 
Eant, the Dutch governor of New York, and finally came into 



16 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the possession of the English on their conquest of New York 
in 1664. 

The king of Sweden, Gustavus Adolphus, sent over a co- 
lony of his subjects, who settled in Delaware in 1627. The 
Dutch settlers on the other side of the Delaware river disputed 
the possession of the country with the Swedes. They obtain- 
ed it in 1655, and in 1664 yielded it to the English. Mary- 
land was settled by English Roman Catholics, in 1 634. Lord 
Baltimore, who had explored the country, obtained the terri- 
tory by royal patent, and it was called Maryland in honor of 
Queen Henrietta Maria. 

Both Connecticut and Rhode Island were first settled 
by companies from Massachusetts ; the settlement of the for- 
mer province being commenced at Hartford, 1635, and that 
of the latter at Providence in the following year. Providence 
was established by Roger Williams, a Baptist, who had been 
persecuted in Massachusetts on account of his religion. The 
followers of Mrs. Anne Hutchinson, whose religious opinions 
were condemned by the Puritans, also sought homes in Rhode 
Island. 

North Carolina was occupied by settlers from Virginia 
about the middle of the century ; South Carolina some 
years later. In 1 680 Charleston was founded, and about ten 
years afterwards came the French Protestants, or Huguenots, 
driven from their country by religious persecution, after the 
revocation of the edict of Nantes. They made their home 
chiefly in South Carolina. 

Pennsylvania was settled in 1682, under a grant made by 
Chailes II. to William Penn, the great Quaker, after whom 



CHAPTER I. 17 

the province was named, lie drew the plan of Philadelphia 
and gave it its name, which si^^nifies " brotherly love." Thus 
all the colonies composing the original thirteen States, except 
Georgia, were establislied before the close of the seventeenth 
century. 

Georgia became a colony in 1733. It was settled under a 
patent granted to twenty-one trustees, for the purpose of giv- 
ing land gratuitously to the poor of Great Britain. A num- 
ber of benevolent persons in England sent over the new colo- 
nists, and provided them with necessaries to begin the set- 
tlement. The province was named Georgia in honor of the 
British monarch. 

The limits of this volume will not permit us to enter into the 
history of the separate colonies. Each had its peculiar and 
separate government, subject to the jurisdiction of Great Bri- 
tain. In 1643 the four colonies of Plymouth, Massachusetts, 
Connecticut, and New Haven, formed a union by articles of 
confederation, and adopted the style of " The United Colonies 
of New England." The object of this union was to protect 
themselves against the Indians and against the encroachments 
of the Dutch of " New Netherlands," as New York was then 
called. New England suffered much in 1675, in a war with 
the Indian tribes called " King Philip's war," after the great 
Indian Sachem. 

The rebellion of Bacon in Virginia, which broke out 
about the same time, was caused by oppressive restric- 
tions on commerce, and heavy taxes imposed by the governor. 
The New England colonics were severely oppressed in tht 
reign of James II., under the tyrannical administration of tha 



IS DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

governor appointed by him, Sir Edmund Andros. The trou- 
bles find discontents in New York arose from the same causes. 
Jacob Leisler was at the head of the disaffected. All these 
commotions tended to develope the spirit which in time aspir- 
ed to national independence. 

The English Revolution, which in 1689 placed William 
and Mary on the throne, delivered the colonies from the op- 
pressions they had suffered. Massachusetts received a new 
charter in 1692. In this year occurred the trials for witch- 
craft, in which so many unfortunate persons were accused, 
imprisoned and executed. These scenes were enacted chiefly 
in Salem and the neiohboring towns. 

The colonies were involved in the war between France and 
England, commonly called King William's War — which last- 
ed from 1690 to the peace of Ryswick, 1697. It was follow- 
ed in 1702 by " Queen Anne's W^ar," which was ended by 
♦he treaty of Utrecht, 1713. By this France ceded Newfound- 
land and Nova Scotia to England. In 1744 war was again 
declared by England against France, and the colonies were 
plunged into hostilities with the French and their savage al- 
lies. This war was most disastrous to the colonies, involving 
them in losses and debt. It was closed in 1748 by the peace 
of Aix-la-Chapelle. The conflicting claims, however, of 
France and Great Britain to the possession of territories in 
America in a short time rendered another war inevitable 
This brings us to what is called " The French and Indian 
War." 

The French had possession of C anada and Louisiana, and were 
engaged in connecting these territories by a chain of military 



CHAPTER I. 19 

posts along the Lakes and Ohio River, to prevent the encroach- 
ments of the English. The Ohio company in 1750 obtained 
from the English government a grant of a large tract of land 
on the Ohio, where they designed to open a trade with the 
Indians. The French governor in Canada, who claimed the 
whole country between the Ohio and the Alleghanies, inter- 
fered with their proceedings. Gov. Dinwiddle, of Virginia, 
after complaints of acts of violence to the traders, in 1753 
determined to send a remonstrance to the French command- 
ant stationed near the Ohio, and require him to withdraw 
bis troops from the territory, which he regarded as belonging 
to the charter limits of Virginia. The bearer of this des- 
patch was George Washington, who, then a youth, thus 
entered first on his career of public service. 

The French commandant refused to comply with the demand ; 
the British government determined to resist the French claim 
by force, and in 1754 Washington conducted a hostile expe- 
dition into the disputed territory. He was obliged by the 
French to capitulate, and returned with his troops to Virginia. 
The British government now recommended the colonies to 
unite for their common defence. At this period their general 
history may be said to commence. Before this time they had 
been distinct and separate ; bound to each other only by a 
common origin and language. 

A convention of delegates from the northern colonies met 
at Albany in 1754, a^ ^ H plan of union, drawn up by Benja- 
min Franklin, was adop ed. It was rejected, however, both 
in England and xVmerica ; the British conceiving that it gave 
too much power to the people, and the colonists, too much to 



20 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the crown. Hostilities went on, and the English forces gained 
possession of Nova Scotia. An expedition under G-en. Brad- 
dock against Fort Du Quesne was less fortunate. His troops 
were surprised on the banks of the Monongahela, and defeated 
by an inferior force of French and Indians. Braddock fell, 
mortally wounded, and Col. Washington, who, though shot at 
repeatedly by the Indians, had been wonderfully preserved in 
the battle, conducted the retreat, and saved the army from 
destruction. 

A victory over the French on the borders of Lake G-eorge, 
m which their commander. Baron Dieskau, fell, followed in a 
few weeks, and revived the spirits of the Americans. In 
1756 war was formally declared between Great Britain and 
France, and what is called ^' the seven years' war" began in 
Europe. This year's campaign in America was extremely 
disastrous to the colonists, and they accomplished little. The 
French, on the other hand, took Fort Oswego, and thus gain- 
ed command of Lakes Ontario and Erie. In 1757 Montcalm, 
the French commander, besieged and took Fort William 
Henry, on the southern shore of Lake George. This fort 
was defended by Col. Munroe. The British troops, after the 
capitulation, were treacherously massacred by the Indians in 
Montcalm's army. 

The campaign of 1758 was more successful. The great states- 
man, William Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham, became prime 
minister, and took the guidance of public affairs. The" colo- 
nies answered his call by new supplies of men, and the tide of 
success turned in favor of Britain. Fort Du Quesne was oc- 
cupied by the English and named Pittsburgh ; Fort Frontenac 



CHAPTER I. 21 

at the outlet of Lake Ontario was captured, and in the fol 
lowing year the other French strongholds in Canada, with 
Ticonderoga, Crown Point, and Niagara, foil into the hands 
of the British. The celebrated Gen. Wolfe led the British 
and colonial troops against Quebec, defeated the French un- 
der Montcalm on the Plains of Abraham, and died on the 
field in the moment of victory. In less than a year from 
the fall of Queb(!C, the French were dispossessed not only 
of the disputed territories, but of their ancient province of 
Canada. 

By the treaty of peace signed at Paris in 1763, France 
ceded to Great Britain her northern possessions, and Spain 
gave Florida in exchange for Havana. England was now 
almost sole mistress of the northern continent, and had three 
millions of loyal subjects in the colonies. These colonies had 
increased in wealth as well as population, had made rapid pro- 
gress in commerce, and poured agricultural riches into the lap 
of the mother country. They loved and revered England, 
but her avarice and desire of power led her to oppress her 
dutiful children. For more than a century restrictions had 
been imposed on colonial trade and manufactures discouraged, 
to compel the Americans to buy and sell exclusively in the 
British markets. 

These enactments of Parliament were regarded as op- 
pressive and unjust, and produced much dissatisfaction. 
Piespectful remonstrance, however, passed unnoticed, and the 
right of the home government to legislate for and tax the 
colonies was maintained by the universal sentiment in Britain. 
Thus grew and ripened the discontent which, with progressive 



22 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

encroacliments, led the way to a final rupture. On the other 
hand, the necessity of uniting for their common defence, and 
concerted action against the enemy, had created a national 
spirit, and strengthened the ties of friendship between the 
colonies. 




DESTRUCTION OF THE TEA AT BOSTON. 



Page 23. 



CH APTE R II. 

DIFFICULTIES WITH GREAT BRITAIN. 

The Edinburgh Review says of the Declaration of Ameri- 
can Independence, that it is the most important event in the 
history of mankind Certainly the great Act by which thir- 
teen colonies shook off the British yoke, and sprang into 
being as independent States, had remarkable consequences on 
both sides of the Atlantic. The war was one of principle — of 
principle involving the welfare of all nations ; for it decided 
whether or not men were to be ruled without their own con- 
sent ; whether or not one privileged class was to trample at 
will on the rights of another. It declared the common rights 
of mankind. It proved a warning to oppressors, and an en- 
couragement to the oppressed, throughout the world. We 
are now to trace, as briefly as possible, the causes which led 
to this Revolution. 

In 1764 it was proposed in England to replenish the ex- 
hausted treasury by taxing the colonics. George Grenville 
gave notice that at the ensuing session he should propose a 
duty on stamps. Great dissatisfaction prevailed in America 
at these proceedings. The people urged that as the colonies 



24 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

were not represented in parliament, they should not bo taxed 
Kemonstrances were addressed to government, and agents 
were sent to prevent the passage of the Stamp Act. It pass- 
ed in March, 1765. By this act, no instruments of writing — 
deeds, bonds, notes, etc., could be legal unless drawn on stamp- 
ed paper, for which a duty was to be paid to the crown. 

The night after the passage of this bill, Dr. Franklin wrote 
to Charles Thomson, '* The sun of liberty is set ; you must 
light up the candles of industry and economy." The next 
day, Dr. Fothergill, on a visit to Miss Grraeme, a young Ame- 
rican lady in London, said — " Betsy, yesterday you were 
made a slave of." She imagined he was jesting on the sub- 
ject of matrimony, and answered — " No, sir, I am slave to no 
man ; my heart is my own !" The physician replied, ^^ Heart 
has nothing to do with it ! you and all your country-people 
were yesterday enslaved, for the bill passed the House for the 
American Stamp Act." 

The passage of the Stamp Act was the entering wedge to 
the dismemberment of the British empire. The news was re- 
ceived in America with a perfect storm of opposition. Pat- 
rick Henry, the first to hurl the gauntlet, introduced resolu- 
tions against it into the Virginia Assembly ; Massachusetts 
was moved by a kindred spirit, and a congress of deputies 
from several of the colonies, forming the first Colonial Con- 
gress, was convened in October. The popular feeling became 
inflamed to the utmost, and all classes were excited. The 
daughter of Dr. Franklin wrote to her father — " The subject 
low is Stamp Act, and nothing else is talked of. The Dutch 



CHAPTER II. 25 

talk of the ' Stamp tack' — the negroes of the ' tamp' — in short 
everybody has something to say." 

The first of November, the day on which the Act was to go 
Into operation, was kept as a day of mourning. The sliops were 
ehut, the flags of the vessels were at half mast, and the bellb 
were tolled as if for a funeral. At Portsmouth a coffin in- 
scribed with the name of " Liberty" was buried with a funeral 
procession. In New York the Act was printed and paraded 
through the streets, with a death's head and cross-bones substi- 
tuted for the royal arms, and the title " England's Folly and 
America's Ruin." Popular detestation of the measure was 
further manifested by destroying and sending back large quan- 
tities of the stamped paper. The merchants of New York, 
Boston, and Philadelphia entered into engagements not to 
import goods from Great Britain till the Act should be repeal- 
ed, and individuals gave up foreign luxuries to support these 
measures for suspending trade. 

In March, 1766, the Stamp Act was repealed, and a tem- 
porary calm succeeded the storm. But the flame of discord 
was soon fanned anew by other encroachments. It seemed, 
indeed, at this dreary period of British history, that the mo- 
narch and his ministry were laboring hard to tear from its 
socket and cast away forever, the brightest jewel of the impe- 
rial crown. At this interval, even Chatham's voice was pow- 
erless to arouse the nation, and induce Parliament to pause. 
By the revival of the scheme of taxation, the varied vexations 
of obnoxious duties, and the display of military force to compel 
submission, did penny-wise politicians, in the happy phrase 



26 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

of the day, " tease America into resistance," and hasten thts 
great catastrophe. 

There were not wanting some, even in England, who 
sought by moderate and constitutional means to stay the 
hand of misgovernment and oppression. Yet onward, step 
by step, the monarch and his ministers — he, if possible, 
more infatuated than they, advanced in the career of tyran- 
nical folly. Remonstrance was vain ; they could not be 
persuaded that it would ever become resistance. In 1769 and 
1770, after five years of folly, the crisis was almost reached. 
The duties on tea being still imposed, while others were re- 
moved, the ports of New York and Philadelphia were closed 
against the tea ships, and that landed in Charleston was not 
permitted to be sold, but was stored in damp cellars, and 
spoiled. Associations in every part of the country were 
formed against the use of tea, and the women showed them- 
selves ready to give up this much loved luxury, when it could 
only be procured at the sacrifice of their country's honor and 
liberties. The Boston Gazette, the leading " rebel newspa- 
per," mentions an agreement signed by the Boston women in 
February, 1770, not to drink any tea till the revenue acts 
were repealed. Similar movements were made in New York 
and Virginia, and few ventured to sell the prohibited article. 
Mrs. Adams, in a letter to Mrs. Warren, calls the tea " that 
baneful weed," and hopes opposition will be made to its 
landing in Boston. 

In December, 1773, a party of several men, in the cos- 
tume of Mohawk Indians, went after dai-k, followed by a 
multitude of people, to the wharf where the tea ships were 



CHAPTER II. 27 

lying, boarded the vogiscls, broke open the chests of tea, 
and threw their contents into the sea. Three hundred 
and forty-two chesfsi of tea were thrown overboard in 
three hours. After this exploit they marched back quietly 
These proceedings excited the anger of the British govern- 
nient, and in March, 1774, a bill was passed prohibiting all 
comniercial intercourse with Boston, and forbidding the land- 
ing and shipping of goods at that port. This was called the 
" Boston Port Bill," and was followed by other violent mea- 
sures. Well might one of the women of that day write — 
" Oh, America ! you have reason to tremble and arouse, if 
we on this side the Atlantic are not able to say to this royal 
vengeance — ' hitherto shalt thou come and no further ; here 
shall thy proud waves be stayed !' " 

All the colonies sympathized in the common cause. The 
tyranny of Gov. Tiyon of North Carolina had inflamed the 
love of liberty in that province. The association of Regula- 
tors had spread over the western counties of the Carolinas^ 
and kept alive a spirit of resistance to governmental oppres- 
sion. In the spring of 1771 Gov. Tryon proceeded against 
them with an armed force, a battle ensued, and the cruelties 
practised by Tryon towards the vanquished, for the purpose 
of awing the people, planted more deeply the seeds of discon- 
tent. 

The general Congress met at Philadelphia, 1774, in the full 
determination to effect, if possible, a reconciliation with the 
mother country. It was not their wish to rush madly into an 
unnatural contest. Thoy declared their rights and grievances, 
and appealed to the King and people of Great Britain for re 



28 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOl'TTION. 

dress. These peaceful measures, however, -were ineffectual, 
and the approach of the storm was perceived by the sagacious 
on both sides of the Atlantic. Ships of the line and troops 
were ordered by the British government to America to reduce 
the rebels to obadience, and hostile preparations were made 
in Massachusetts and other colonies to meet determined op- 
pression by resistance The people practised military tactics ; 
the fife and drum were heard on every side, old and young 
beiucr eno;afyed in martial exercises, and stores of arms and 
ammunition were collected. The crisis had arrived, and 
there was a general waiting for the signal of open war. 

One manifestation of the general feeling in Boston, the 
winter after the arrival of the British troops, was remaikable. 
Some of the crown ofiicers who thought the public gloom dis- 
loyal, got up a series of dancing assemblies, in hope?, by 
engaging the higher classes in festivity, to contradict the as- 
sertions of prevailing distress, and undermine the stern reserve 
maintained towards the army. But out of their own limited 
circle they could not induce any ladies to attend. Elegant 
manners, gay uniforms, animating music — all were resisted by 
the women, who refused to join in gaieties while their counti^ 
was in mourninfir. 




BATTLE OF LEXINGTON. 



Page 29. 



CHAPTER I I T 

COMMENCEMENT OF THE WAR. 

At length the storm burst forth. On the night of April 
18th, 1775, Gen. Gage, the royal governor of Massachusetts 
and commander of the British forces in Boston, sent a detach- 
ment of eight hundred soldiers to destroy some military stores 
at Concord. His design became known to patriots in the 
city, and early on the following morning the firing and ring- 
ing of bolls spread the alarm that the royal troops were m 
motion. A number of provincial militia were found assem- 
bled at Lexington, on the road to Concord, when the British 
appeared on the morning of the 19th. Major Pitcairn rode 
up and ordered them to throw down their arms and disperse. 
Not being obeyed, he ordered his men to fire upon them. 
Eight of the militia were killed, and the detachment proceed- 
ed to Concord and destroyed the stores. But the spirit of 
the people was roused, and on the return of the British troops 
to Boston they were continually fired at along the way from 
behind bushes, fences, and buildings, suffering severe loss. 
The American loss was much less. 

The afiair is thus described, in a letter written at the ti n , 
by a lady of Cambridge : 



30 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

" Nor will old time ever erase the horrors of that midnight 
cry, preceding the bloody massacre at Lexington, when we 
were roused from the benign slumbers of the season, by beat 
of drum and ringing of bells, with the dire alarm that a thou- 
sand of the troops of George the Third had gone forth tc 
murder the peaceful inhabitants of the surrounding villages. 
A few hours, with the dawning day, convinced us the bloody 
purpose was executing ; the platoon firing assurinor us the 
rising sun must witness the bloody carnage. Not knowing 
what the event would be at Cambridge, at the return of these 
bloody ruffians, and seeing another brigade dispatched to the 
assistance of the former, looking with the ferocity of barba- 
rians, it seemed necessary to retire to someplace of safety, till 
the calamity was passed. After dinner wo set out, not know- 
ing whither we went. We were directed to a place called 
Fresh Pond, about a mile from the town ; but what a dis- 
tressed house did we find it, filled with women whose husbands 
had gone forth to meet the assailants, seventy or eighty of 
these (with numberless infant children,) weeping and agoniz- 
ing for the fate of their husbands ! In addition to this scene 
of distress, we were for some time in sight of the battle ; the 
glittering instruments of death proclaiming by an incessant 
[fire] that much blood must be shed ; that many widowed and 
orphaned ones [must] be left as monuments of British barba- 
rity. Another uncomfortable night we passed ; some noddino" 
in their chairs, some resting their weary limbs on the floor. 
The welcome harbingers of day gave notice of its dawning 
Ught. [It] brings no news It is unsafe to return to Cam- 



CHAPTER III. 31 

bridge, as the enemy were advancing up tlie river, and fixing 
on the town to stay in. 

" Thus with precipitancy wc were driven to the town of 
Anderson, following some of our acquaintance — five of us to 
be conveyed with one poor tired horse and chaise ; thus we 
began cur pilgrimage, alternately walking and riding, the 
roads filled with frighted women and children ; some in carts 
with their tattered furniture, others on foot fleeing into the 
woods. But what added greatly to the horrors of the scene, 
was our passing through the bloody field at Monotong, which 
was strewed with the mangled bodies. We met one afi'ec- 
tionate father with a cart, looking for his murdered son, and 
picking up his neighbors who had fallen in battle, in order 
for their burial." 

Intelligence of this event spread rapidly through Massachu- 
setts and the adjoining provinces, and everywhere the militia 
of the country took up arms, and hastened to the scene of 
action. Col. Prescott, the grandftither of the American his- 
torian, heard the news at Pepperell about nine o'clock the 
same morning, and immediately gave orders to his compani'^s 
in Pepperell and Ilollis, to march to Groton, proceeding 
thence to Concord and Cambridge. Rumors were flying 
abroad that the regulars were approaching, and frightful 
stories of slaughter flew rapidly from place to place, and from 
house to house. It is said that a number of women, clothed 
in the apparel of their absent husbands, and armed with mus- 
kets, pitchforks, and such other weapons as they could find, 
collected at the bridge over the Nashau, between Pepperell 
and Groton, to arrest any " foe to freedom" who might pass- 



32 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

A Capt. WhitiDg, bearing despatches fiom Canada to the 
British in Boston, was arrested by them, unhoised and search- 
ed, and sent prisoner to Oliver Prcscott of Groton. 

Matthew Bucll, a farmer of Connecticut, was plowing in 
the field when news came that blood had been shed; he in- 
stantly unyoked his cattle, and leaving his plow standing in 
the furrow, repaired to the house to take leave of his wife and 
family. Putnam, who was also at work in the field, did the 
same, starting for Cambridge without waiting to change his 
apparel. Stark was sawing pine logs without his coat ; ho 
shut down the gate of his mill, and commenced the journey to 
Boston in his shirt sleeves. The same spirit prevailed far ana 
near. In New York, the mechanics of the city had a pro- 
cession, and having deposited their tools in a large cofiiD 
made for the purpose, marched to the solemn music of a 
funeral dirge, and buried the coffin in Potter's Field, returning 
to present themselves, each with musket in hand, in readi- 
ness for military service. 

The volunteers waited not to be supplied with arms, but 
seizing on whatever rude weapons were at hand, hastened 
away to fight for home and liberty. The women, lacking not 
their share of patriotic zeal, were active in preparations to 
encourage, assist, and sustain them. One, the wife of Capt. 
Draper, living an a farm at Dedham, Massachusetts, exhorted 
her husband to lose ne time in hastening to the scene of ac- 
tion, and with her own hands bound knapsack and blanket on 
the shoulders of her only son, a stripling of sixteen, bidding 
him depart and do his duty. To the entreaties of her daugh- 
ter that her young brother might remain at home to be their 



CHAPTER III. 33 

protector, she answered that every arm ahle to aid the cause 
belonged to the country. " He is wanted, and must go 
You and I, Kate, have also service to do. Food must be 
prepared for the hungry ; for before to-morrow night, hun- 
dreds, I hope thousands, will be on their way to join the con- 
tinental forces. Some who have travelled far will need re- 
freshment, and you and I, with Molly, must feed as many as 
we can." 

This undertaking, though of no small labor, was presently 
commenced. Capt. Draper was a thriving farmer ; his gra- 
naries were well filled, and his wife's dairy was her special 
care and pride. Assisted by her daughter and the domestic, 
she spent the whole day and night, and the succeeding day in 
baking brown bread. The ovens of that day were not the 
small ones now in use, but suited for such an occasion, each 
holding bread sufficient to supply a neighborhood. By good 
fortune two of these monster ovens appertained to the estab- 
lishment ; these were soon in full blast, and the kneading 
trough was plied by busy hands. At that time of hurry and 
confusion none could stop long enough to dine. The people 
were under the influence of strong excitement, and all were 
in such haste to join the army, that they stayed only to relieve 
the cravings of hunger, though from want of food, and fatigue, 
many were almost exhausted. With the help of a disabled 
veteran of the French war, who had for years resided in her 
family, Mrs. Draper had soon her stores in readiness. A Ions 
form was erected by the road-side ; large pans of bread and 
cheese were placed upon it, and replenished as often as wag 
necessary ; while old John brought cider in pails from the 



34 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

cellar, which, poured into tubs, was served out by two lads 
who volunteered their services. Thus were the weary patriots 
refreshed on their way. Mrs. Draper presided at the enter- 
tainment, and when her own stock of provisions began to 
fail, applied to her neighbors for aid. By their contributions 
her hospitable board was supplied, till in a few days the ne- 
cessity for extraordinary exertion had in a measure passed. 
When each soldier carried his rations, the calls on private be- 
nevolence were less imperative. 

Another anecdote will show the spirit that was abroad. 
On the morning after the battle of Lexington, a company of 
nearly a hundred halted before the house of Col. Pond of 
West Dedham. They had marched all night, and were cov- 
ered with dust, and faint from fatigue and want of food. 
Their haste was urgent, and the mistress of the house, whose 
hospitality they claimed, was unprepared for the entertain- 
ment of so large a party. Her husband was absent, and she 
had only one female assistant and a hired man. But the wil- 
ling heart can do wonders. In a few minutes she had a large 
brass kettle, holding ten pails full, over the fire, filled with 
water and Indian meal for hasty pudding. In the barn-yard 
were ten cows ready to contribute their share to the morning 
meal. Near the farm-house was a store well supplied with 
brown earthen dishes, and pewter spoons tied in dozens for 
sale. The military guests volunteered their aid. Some milk- 
ed the cows, others stirred the pudding ; while the two do- 
mestics collected all the milk in the neighborhood. Thus, in 
the short space of aa hour, by the energetic efibrts of one 
kind-hearted woman^ a hundred wtary, hungry soldiers wero 



CHAPTER III. 35 

provided with refreshment. They ate, and marched on to the 
place of their destination. 

In a few days a large army was thus collected, and the 
British forces in Boston were closely environed. 

Other portions of the country sympathized in the general 
movement. Associations were formed to support any mea- 
sures that should be recommended by the Continental Con- 
gress to oppose the execution of the arbitrary acts of Parlia- 
ment. Arms found in the possession of persons who had not 
signed the Association were imprsssed for the use of the 
Continental troops. In distant colonics the same feeling was 
exhibited. The Southern women formed themselves into 
associations renouncing the use of teas and imported luxuries, 
and engaging to card, spin, and weave their own clothing. 
In Mecklenburg and Bowan counties, North Carolina, young 
ladies of the most respectable families, pledged themselves not 
to receive the addresses of any suitors who would not obey 
the country's call for military service. 

It was in Mecklenburg County that the idea of National Inde- 
pendence was first proclaimed to the world. A large concourse 
of people was assembled in the frontier settlement of Charlotte, 
on the 19th of May, 1775, agitated with the excitement whicb 
had plunged the whole land into commotion. On that day 
came the first intelligence of the commencement of hostilities at 
Lexington, and when the convention and the people were 
addressed, the universal cry was — " Let us be independent ! 
Let us declare our independence, and defend it with our lives 
and fortunes !" Dr. Brevard drew up resolutions, unani- 
mously adopted on the following day by the convention and 



36 r;0MESTic history of the revolution. 

the approving multitude, by which the citizens of Mecklen 
burg declared thcniselves a free and independent people. 

The Americans next took the important fortresses of Ticou- 
deroga and Crown Point, which commanded the entrance into 
Canada. The British troops were reinforced by troops froir 
England under Generals Howe, Clinton and Burgoyne, and 
Gen. Gage issued his proclamation, declaring those rebels 
who were in arms, and offering pardon to all who would re- 
turn to their allegiance, except Samuel Adams and John 
Hancock. Congress again m-et in Philadelphia in May, and 
issued a large amount of bills of credit, to defray the ex- 
penses of the war. They again addressed the King and people 
of Britain, and published to the world the reasons of their 
appeal to arms. On the J5th of June they elected George 
Washington Commander-in-Chief of the army of the United 
Colonies. He accepted the appointment, and set out at once, 
accompanied by the best citizens of the liberal party, to enter 
on his duties at Cambridge. 

The memorable battle of Bunker's Hill was fought on the 
17th of June. Col. Prescott took the most conspicuous and 
efficient part in this action, the moral effect of which wag 
favorable to the American cause, though the Continental 
troops, their ammunition failing, were obliged to retreat. 
Among the killed was Gen. Joseph Warren. While the bat- 
tle was going on, a young lady in Boston, by whose house 
many of the wounded brought from the field of action were 
carried, mixed a refreshing beverage, and standing at her 
door with a female domestic, offered it to the sufferers. Some 
of the British, supposing her a loyalist, expressed their gra- 



CHAPTER ni. 37 

titude for the relief by telling her how her countrymen had 
been boaten. One young officer said: "Never mind, my 
brave young lady, we have peppered them well !" thus wound- 
ing her feelings while she was showing compassion for his. 
While the British troops advanced to the attack, Gen. Gage 
had ordered the village of Charlestown to be burned. By 
the execution of this order multitudes were deprived of their 
homes, and that, too, after they had given shelter to the 
wounded British soldiers on their return from Concord. 

While Boston was blockaded, several of the inhabitants 
were obliged to remain in the city. A besieging army without 
and an insolent soldiery within, while provisions and fuel were 
scarce — for a long time their sufferings were great. A letter 
says : — " The desk, the pews, and other incumbrances are 
taken down in the Old South church to make it convenient 
for the accommodation of Gen. Burgoyne's light horse ; 
while the infamous Dr. Morrison reads prayers in the church 
in Brattle street to a set of banditti, who, after the rapines, 
robberies and devastations of the wdek, dare^ some of them, 
to lift up their sacrilegious hands, and bow before the altar of 
mercy." 

It should be noticed that there was still a large number of 
Americans who favored the royal cause, and joined the Bri- 
tish against their countrymen. These were called tories, or 
loyalists, while those of the other party were known by the 
name of whigs, or patriots. 

The summer of this year may be said to have end- 
ed the royal authority in the colonics. Congress planned 
an cxpedi ion against Canada, and Generals Montgomery 



38 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

and Schuyler commanded the troops sent. St. Johns 
and Montreal were successively taken. During the siege 
of the first, Col. Ethan Allen, a brave ofiicer in the army, 
was captured and sent in chains to England. Gen. Ar- 
nold joined Montgomery, and their forces environed Que- 
bec ; but the ^iege, though prosecuted three weeks, was un- 
successful ; and in the attempt made to storm the city on the 
31st of December, Gen. Montgomery fell beneath its walls. 
The Americans, for want of forces, were compelled to retire, 
and by the ensuing June, 1776, had evacuated Canada. 



CHAPTER IV. 

8TATE OF SOCIETY FEMALE INFLUENCE E\ACUATION OF 



Before the Revolution, the state of society was such as 
might ha^e been expected under a monarchical government 
The story of the courtship and marriage of Gen. Knox gives 
some idea of the aristocratic distinctions then prevalent, and 
the embarrassments growing out of them. lie moved in an 
humble sphere, his energies having been early called into 
action by the necessity of supporting his mother and young 
brother ; but formed an engagement with the daughter of a 
gentleman high in office, and proniinmt among the aristocra- 
cy of the land — Thomas Flucker, Secretary of the Province 
of Massachusetts. It was a grief to this proud family when 
Miss Flucker was known not only to favor the addresses of 
young Knox, but to have espoused his republican opinions. 
Both arguments and entreaties were used to dissuade her 
from a course which they believed must be destructive to all 
her worldly prospects. But when the time arrived for her 
decision, she cast her all upon the die that was to decIiL' the 
i.ation's fate, and pledged herself to the foi'tuues of a soldier's 



40 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

wife. Her father believed she had consigned herself to an 
unworthy destiny, and predicted that she would suffer in the 
troubles that were to come, while her sisters were enjoying 
the luxury and station she had unwisely renounced. How 
dimly did they discern the future ! The proud loyalists who 
had borne honors conferred by the British government, were 
compelled to fly from their country, forfeiting the wealth they 
deemed secure — or inadequately compensated for the sacrifice 
after long delay — to die in voluntary exile. The poor and 
self-denying patriots, who gave up affluence and ease for. their 
country's sake, wsre rewardad by her lasting gratitude. 

It was the habit of Washington, at the clos3 of each cam- 
paign, to despatch an aid-de-camp to escort Mrs. Washing- 
ton to head-(juarters, where sho usually remained till the 
opening of the succeeding one in the spring. She was accus- 
tomed afterwards to say that it had been her fortune to hear 
the first cannon at the opening, and the last at the closing, of 
all the campaigns of the Revolutionary war. Her arrival in 
camp was a noted event ; the plain chariot, with the neat pos- 
tillions in their scarlet and white liveries, was always welcomed 
with great joy by the army, and brought a cheering influence, 
which relieved the general gloom in seasons of disaster and 
despondency. 

An incident occurred as she passed through Philadelphia, 
Nov. 21st, 1775, on her way to Cambridge, which shows the 
depressed state of popular feeling on the breaking out of the 
war. A ball was in preparation, to be given on the twenty- 
fourth, and it was expected that both she and the wife of Col. 
Hancock would grace the entertainment with their presence. 



CHAPTER IV. 41 

But from some threats that were thrown out, it was feared 
that a commotion would be made, which might result in dis- 
turbance of the peace of the city. A large and respectable 
committee was hold at the Philosophical Hall, called together 
for the purpose of considering the propriety of allowing the 
ball to be given that evening ; and after mature consideration 
it was concluded that no such entertainment should take 
place, either then, or during the continuance of those melan- 
choly times. A committee was appointed to inform the 
managers that they must proceed no further in the prepara- 
tions ; and also to wait upon ' Lady AYashington,' and request 
her not to attend at the assembly to which she had been invit- 
ed. The committee acted agreeably to directions ; and reported 
that Lady Washington had received them with great polite- 
ness, thanked the committee for their kind care and regard in 
giving her timely notice, and assured them that their senti- 
ments on this occasion were perfectly agreeable to her own. 

The example of Mrs. Washington was followed by the 
wives of many of the general officers, who spent the winters 
with their husbands, passing the active season of the cam- 
paign at home. The wife of Gen. Greene, when the army 
went into winter quarters, always set out to join him, sharing 
cheerfully the narrow quarters and hard fiire of a camp. 
The cheerful manners of the ladies enlivened dreary scenes, 
dissipating the gloom that might have wv.ighed down many a 
bold heart. Mrs. Greene's home was at Coventry, a village 
of Rhode Island, where her husband had erected a forgo, and 
built himself what then passed for a princely house on the 
banks of one of tlios^ small streams that form so beautiful a 



42 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLOTION. 

feature in Eliode Island scenery. When the army besieging 
Boston was inoculated for the small pox, she gave up her house 
for a hospital. 

At this period, and throughout the war, the influence and 
exertions of women in all parts of the country contributed to . 
promote a spirit of patriotism. They animated the courage, 
and confirmed the self-devotion of those who ventured all in 
the common cause. They frowned upon instances of cold- 
ness or backwardness, and in the period of deepest gloom, 
cheered and urged onward the desponding. They willingly 
shared inevitable dangers and privations, relinquished without 
regret prospects of advantage to themselves, and parted with 
those they loved better than life, not knowing when they were 
to meet again. It is almost impossible now to appreciate the 
vast influence of woman's patriotism upon the destinies of 
the infant republic. We have no means of showing the im- 
portant part she bore in maintaining the struggle, and in lay- 
ing the foundations on which so mighty and majestic a struc- 
ture has arisen. We can only dwell upon individual instances 
of magnanimity, fortitude, self-sacrifice and heroism, bearing 
the impress of the feeling of Revolutionary days, indicative of 
the spirit which animated all, and to which, in its various and 
multiform exhibitions, we are not less indebted for national 
freedom, than to the swords of the patriots who poured out 
their blood. 

A letter written by a lady of Philadelphia to a British offi- 
cer in Boston, says : " My only brother I have sent to the 
camp with my prayers and blessings. I hope he will not dis- 
grace me; I am confident he will behave with honor, and 



CHAPTER rv. 43 

emulate tlie groat examples he has before him ; and had I 
twenty sons and brothers they should go. I have retrenched 
every superfluous expense in my table and family ; tea 1 have 
not drunk since last Christmas, nor bought a new cap or 
gown since your defeat at Lexington ; and what I never did 
Vefore, have learned to knit, and am now making stockings of 
American wool for my servants ; and this way do I throw in 
Qiy mite to the public good. I have the pleasure to assure 
fou that these are the sentiments of all my sister Americans, 
rhey have sacrificed assemblies, parties of pleasure, tea- 
drinking and finery, to that great spirit of patriotism that ac- 
tuates all degrees of people throughout tliis extensive conti- 
lent." 

The patriotic sacrifices of the women were made with a deep 
enthusiasm. Some gave their own property, and went from 
house to house to solicit contributions for the army. Colors 
were embroidered by fair hands, and presented with the 
charge never to desert them, and arms and ammunition were 
provided with the same liberal zeal. The needy shared the 
fruit of their industry and economy, and their firmness and 
intrepidity supplied every persuasive that could animate to 
perseverance and secure fidelity. A lady in Ulster County, 
New York, studied medicine that she might be qualifiid, while 
the physicians were absent with the army, to attend to the 
poor families in the country around her. 

When, after the battle of Bunker Hill, Gen. AA''ashington 
called on the inhabitants of the country to send to head-quar- 
ters every ounce of pewter or lead at their disposal, few wjth- 
hi'ld their portion, and the weights of clocks and window- 



44 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

sashes, as well as cups and dishes, were melted down and sent 
as willing offerings. At this time the more precious metals 
had not found their way to the tables of New Englanders, 
and throughout the country services of pewter, scoured to the 
brightness of silver, covered the board, even in the mansions 
of the wealthy. Some who had moulds for casting bullets 
melted all their platters, pans and dishes into balls. 

When the approach of winter this year brought fears that 
the resources of the country would hardly yield supplies for 
the pressing wants of the army, the women were active in 
benevolent efforts. The supply of domestic cloth, designed 
for families, was in a short time converted by the labor of the 
females into coats for the soldiers ; sheets and blankets were 
fashioned into shirts ; and even the flannel already made up 
was altered into men's habiliments. Such aid was rendered 
by many whose deeds of disinterested generosity were never 
known beyond their own immediate neigliborhood ! 

In March, 1776, Washington executed a plan for driving 
the British from Boston. He built fortifications on Dorches- 
ter heights, which commanded the city and harbor. Gen. 
Howe's troops and shipping being exposed to the fire of the 
batteries, on the 17th the royal forces evacuated the town 
and sailed for Halifax. The Americans entered in triumph, 
with drums beating and colors flying, and were welcomed with 
joy by the citizens, who for ten months had endured the 
severest privations. All necessary articles of food had risen 
to enormous prices. Vegetables were not to be procured ; and 
it was so difiicult to obtain wood that the pews and benches were 
taken out of churches, and houses we.-i^ pulled down for fuel. 



CHAPTER IV. 4f 

The popularity of the whig cause meanwhile increased 
throughout the country. Volunteer troops had been raised, 
and money in large quantities had been sent from Philadel- 
phia for the relief of the suflferers in New England. In Suf- 
folk County, Long Island, at the first outbreak of rebellion 
the people assembled in almost every town, and voted resolu- 
tions of aid and sympathy for their brethren. When the 
militia was organized, such as were royalists, or from pruden- 
tial considerations wished to remain neutral, refused to train, 
and secreted themselves. Many repaired to the recesses of 
swamps, and several expeditions were set on foot to drive 
them thence. 

General Washington suspected that New York would be 
the next point of attack, and leaving Boston in a state of de- 
fence, moved with the main body of his army towards that 
city, arriving early in April. Sir Henry Clinton, with the 
British fleet, sailed south, his plan being to attack Charleston. 
Having been joined at Cape Fear River by Sir Peter Parker, 
with a large squadion from Europe, in June he advanced 
against Fort Moultrie on Sullivan's Island, which commanded 
the channel leading to Charleston. The British were repulsed 
in this attack, the enterprise was abandoned, and the fleet 
shortly after sailed for New York. On the third day after the 
battle, which took place on the 28th, the wife of Col. Barnard 
Elliott presented to the second regiment, commanded by Col. 
"Moultrie, a pair of richly embroidered colors, wrought by hcr- 
5elf. They were planted, three years afterwards, on the 
British lines at Savannah, by Sergeant Jasper, who in plant- 
ing them received his death-wound. 



46 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Shortly before these events, North Carolina had been the 
theatre 9f tumult. The colonial governor, Martin, in Feb- 
ruary, 1776, collected the Highland emigrants, under Gen 
McDonald, with a large number of rough backwoodsmen. 
He expected to be joined by regular troops from England, 
under Lord Cornwallis, who were to land at AVilmington. The 
patriots of Newbern and Wilmington Districts, on their part, 
were not idle. Col. Richard Caswell called his neighbors 
hastily together ; the county rose in mass, and scarce a man 
was left in the Neuse region. The united regiments of Colo- 
nels Lillington and Caswell encountered Gren. McDonald at 
Moore's Creek. On the 27th of February the battle — one of 
the bloodiest of the Revolution — was fought, and proved dis- 
astrous to the royal forces. The unhappy Gren. McDonald, 
who had been prevented by illness from commanding his 
troops in the engagement, was found, when it was over, sitting 
alone on a stump near his tent. As the victorious American 
officers advanced towards him, he waved in the air the parch- 
ment scroll of his commission, and surrendered it into their 
hands. 

Flora McDonald, the celebrated Scottish heroine, who 
saved the life of " the Pretender," Prince Charles Edward, 
after the battle of CuUoden, was living among the Highlanders 
at Cross Creek — now Fayetteville — at this time, and it is saic] 
went among the soldiers, animating their courage, when on the 
2ve of their march. An American heroine certainly figurec] 
on the field at Moore's Creek ; the wife of Lieut. Slocumb, 
whose home was more than sixty miles distant. After her 
husband, with the men of the neighborhood, had gone to the 



CHAPTER IV. 47 

battle, she dreamed of seeing liim lying dead on the ground, 
and was so niuch alarmed that she rose in the night, saddled 
luM- horse and rode at full gallop in the direction the troope 
liad taken. At sunrise she came upon a group of women ani 
children, standing and sitting by the roadside, anxious to ob- 
tain intelligence. Riding on through a thinly-settled, poor 
and swampy country, at about nine in the morning she came 
near enough to hear the firing. She dashed on in the direc- 
tion of the noise, drew near the battle ground, and saw the 
wounded lying under a cluster of trees. There lay a body, in- 
deed, wrapped in her husband's guard-cloak ; but it was an- 
other person. ]Mrs. Slocumb dismounted, gave the wounded 
man water, washed his bloody focc, and bound up his wound 
with leaves ; she then dressed the wounds of the others, and 
was thus employed when Caswell and her husband came up. 
They were, of course, much surprised to see her. She 
would not tell them of her dream, but thought her visit had 
been a fortunate one for those who needed nursing. She in- 
terceded for the prisoners, and Caswell told her none should 
be hui-t but such as had been guilty of murder and house- 
burning. In the middle of the night she again mounted and 
started for home, declining the offer to send an escort with 
her ; for she said — " I wanted to see my child, and I told 
them they could send no party who could keep up with me." 
This resolute woujan thus rode alone, in the niii;ht, throuo-h a 
wild, unsettled country, a distance — going and returning — of 
a hundred and twenty-five miles, and that in less tlinn forty 
fiours, and without any interval of rest ! Ifer husband was 
among the bravo officers of the i^evolutiou to whom histoiy 



48 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

has done no justice. He bore a gallant part in the action at 
Moore's Creek ; it was his company that forded the stream, 
and penetrating the swamp, made the furious charge on tne 
British left and rear which decided the fate of the day.. 




RETREAT PROM LONG ISLAND. 



Page 49. 



CHATTER V 

DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE FEMALE SPY BA I'T! K 

OF LONG ISLAND. 

The most formidable preparations were made by Great 
Britain to carry oo the war. By a treaty with Geiiiiaii 
princes, seventeen thousand G-erman or Hessian troops were 
engaged, while additional English troops, with a large fleet, 
were ordered to America. The colonies seeing that their 
grievances were not likely to be redressed, now began to 
abandon the sentiment of loyalty, and desire nothing less than 
absolute independence. A committee was instructed by Con- 
gress to prepare a declaration in accordance with the object 
of a resolution offered on the 7th of June by Richard Henry 
Lee, of Virginia. Thomas Jeiferson, John Adams, Benjamin 
Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston, formed 
the committee. The Declaration of Independ mce was drawn 
up by Jeff^son, and on the 4th of July, 1776, was adopted 
by the delegates of all the thirteen coloni:'s. They thus de- 
clared themselves free and independent, assuming the name of 
the United States of America. 

The Declaration was received with i-very demonstration of 
pu])1ie r'-joiciu'/. It was rt^-.v] in public fr<Mn th- [)latform of 

3 K 



60 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

an observatory in the rear of the State House. On the same 
day a brilliant fete was given in honor of the nation's birth, 
on board the frigate Washington in the Delaware, the fes- 
tivities terminating with a ball in the evening. The Decla- 
ration was read at the head of each brigade of the Continen- 
tal army stationed at New York, and received with joyful 
huzzas. On the same day all the imprisoned debtors were 
released. In the evening the equestrian statue of Geor2;e 
lil., raised in the Bowling Green in 1770, was thrown down. 
It was determined that the lead of which it was composed 
should be run into bullets. On the 10th of July it was 
read in the Court House at White Plains by order of the 
convention, then in session. The King's coat of arms was 
brought from the hall where his courts were held, and burned 
amid the acclamations of the multitude. 

Meanwhile General Sir William Howe, who had sailed from 
Halifax, arrived at Sandy Hook, June 25th, and soon aftei 
took possession of Staten Island. Joined by his brother, Ad- 
miral Lord Howe, and the repulsed forces of Clinton from 
the south, he was at the head of a large army of the best 
troops of Europe. His design was to seize New York, keep 
possession of the Hudson, open a communication with Canada, 
eut off the Eastern from the Middle States, and have the ad- 
jacent country wholly in his power. The American forces, 
on the other hand, were composed of undisciplined militia — 
and many were unprovided with arms. Lord Howe made an 
attempt at negotiation, and sent a letter, with that view, di- 
rected to ^' George Washington, Esq." Washington refused 
to receive a letter not addressed to him in his public capacity 



CHAPTER V. 51 

saying that as a private individual he could hold no inter- 
course- with the enemies of his country. A further attempt at 
accommodation failing — the British generals resolved to lose 
no time in prosecuting the war. 

We have a picture of female occupation in an American 
officer's family, in a journal of the daughter of Major Mon- 
cricffe, of the British engineers. She was boarding at Eliza- 
bethtown, New Jersey, when the appearance of Gen. Howe 
at Staten Island compelled the inhabitants to seek refuge in 
the interior. Having been frightened afterwards by a party 
of riflemen, she appealed to Gen. Putnam. He answered by 
a kind invitation to his house, and sent one of his aids to con- 
duct her to New York : " When I arrived in the Broadway," 
she says, " I was received with the greatest tenderness both by 
Mrs. Putnam and her daughters, and on the following day 
was introduced by them to General and Mrs. Washington, 
who likewise made it their study to show me eveiy mark of 
regard ; but I seldom was allowed to be alone, although some- 
times indeed I found an opportunity to escape to the gallery 
on the top of the house,* where my chief delight was to view 
with a telescope our fleet and army at Staten Island. 

*' My amusements were few ; the good Mrs. Putnam employ- 
ed me and her daughters constantly to spin flax for shirts for 
the American soldiery ; indolence in America being totally dis- 
couraged One day after dinner, the Congress was the toast. 
General Washington viewed me very attentively, and said — 
' Miss Moncriefi'e, you don't drink your wine.' Embarrassed 

* Many of the gentlemen's houses in New York had then a gallery, 
with a summer house, on the toj). 



52 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

by tins reproof, I knew not how to act ; at last, as if by a 
secret impulse, I addressed myself to the Americaii. com- 
mander, and taking the wine, I said — ' General Howe is the 
toast.' The whole company censured me;- but my good' 
friend Gen. Putnam, as usual, apologised, and assured them 
I did not mean to offend. General Washington then said. 
* Well, Miss, I will overlook your i)idiscretion, on condition 
that you drink my health, or Gen. Putnam's, the first time 
you dine at Sir William Howe's table, on the other side of 
the water.' " 

Not very long afterwards this young lady played the part 
of a spy, during her visit at the house of a Mr. Wood, near 
Peekskill. Among the visitors who came to pay their re- 
spects to her were frequently a number of young officers of the 
American army. Most of these speedily became enslaved to 
the charms of Miss Moncrieffe, who entered with apparently 
warm interest into the discussions she heard, expressing un- 
bounded friendship for the whig cause, and a generous indig- 
nation against the oppressors of her native country. The 
young officers were enchanted to hear her professions of pa- 
triotism, and felt no restraint in conversing with her upon the 
state and prospects of the country, the occurrences of the 
day, and the plans and movements by which they expected to 
circumvent the enemy. 

Like many women of that day, she was a capital equestrian. 
One morning she took her accustomed ride without any 
companion. On passing a farm house, the barking of a dog 
that su-ddenly sprang into the road frightened her horse. The 
animal started aside ; she was thrown to the ground, and so 



CHAPTER V. 5? 

.severely stunned as to be entirely insensible. There were no 
men about the house to render assistance ; but the women ran 
out, lifted her in their arms, carried her in and laid her on a 
bed. While they were using means for her restoration, one 
of them unbuttoned her vest to allow her to breathe more 
freely. A letter dropped out, which was picked up and put 
on the table. It was not long before she beo;an to recover 
consciousness ; meanwhile the man who lived in the farm 
house happened to come in, and was informed of the accident. 
In a few minutes Miss Moncrieflfe was fully restored to hei 
senses. Suddenly starting and seizing the open flaps of her 
vest, she sprang up, and asked for the letter, in tones that be- 
trayed the utmost agitation and alarm. One of the women 
took it up, and was about to hand it to her quietly, when the 
man, suspecting from her strange behavior that something 
was wrong, started forward and seized it. Perceiving that 
the letter was directed to New York, he refused to give it up, 
feeling convinced that there was more in the aifair than she 
was willing to admit. There was no resource for the young 
lady but to adjust her dress and ride back to Mr. Wood's 
house. She immediately commenced preparations for return- 
ing to the city. But before she could get ready to start, in- 
formation of her proceedings had been carried to the proper 
quarter; a party of soldiers rode up and entered the house ; 
the officer announced to Miss Moncrieffe that she was their 
prisoner, and she was conveyed under their escort across the 
river to a public house, wlicre a guard was placed over her. 

It was ascertain .*d that the letter in questioh contained in- 
formation respecting so?ne. inf^iid'd mov.nnont of the Conti- 



54 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

nental forces. It came out upon examination that the young 
lady had been in the habit of sending her British friends the 
information she obtained from the young ofl&cers, who, not sus- 
pecting any sinister motive in the interest she evinced, con- 
fided their plans to her. When she wrote a letter, she con- 
cealed it beneath her vest, and in her solitary rides contrived 
to drop the missive in a certain spot by the road-side. A 
man who waited, hid among the bushes, came out directly, 
cautiously picked up the letter, and conveyed it to another 
secret agent some distance down the river, by whom it was 
safely forwarded to its destination. All this was brought to 
light by the confession of the man himself. He had a family 
in the neighborhood, and fearing discovery of his agency, 
judged it most prudent to throw himself on the mercy of the 
Americans by a voluntary confession, hoping to be let off as a 
reward for his evidence against Miss Moncrieffe. He was 
kept a long time in custody, but there is no reason to believe 
he ever received any other punishment. 

The baggage of Miss Moncrieffe was examined, and several 
papers relating to military affairs were found in her trunks. 
While she remained a prisoner, some of the British officers 
appealed to the Americans in her behalf. Her countrymen 
were by no means disposed to deal harshly with a youth- 
ful female, especially one so beautiful, accomplished and 
highly connected, and it was finally decided to give her up to 
her friends. The crime for which a man would have suffered 
on the gibbet was pardoned to one of her sex and age, and 
she was escorted to a place agreed upon, adjoining the British 



CHAPTER V. 55 

lines, where she was delivered into the charge of those who 
undertook to conduct her in safety to her father. 

This curious story, rekted by a person who lived in Mr. 
Wood's house at the time, is confirmed by a letter from a 
Brititfh ofiicer, preserved in the London Universal Maga- 
zine. The woman who so early showed herself an adept in 
deception, ended her career in England in poverty and dis- 
grace. 

The vicinity of the royal fleet to New York alarmed the 
inhabitants, and many removed from the city. The British 
landed on the south-western shore of Long Island, August 
22d, divided their army into three divisions, and commenced 
a circuitous march to the American camp at Brooklyn. The 
battle took place on tlie 27th of August. The Americans 
were defeated with severe loss, and their strength was still 
further impaired by the discouragement that ensued. The 
day following. Gen. Woodhull, President of the Convention 
of the State of New York, was captured at Jamaica, and 
barbarously treated by a British scouting party, under Capt 
Oliver Delancey. When he was brought, wounded and bleed- 
ing, to Mrs. Ilinchman's inn, and laid on her best bed, he beg- 
ged her not to leave him alone with his enemies. " Don't be 
alarmed. General," said the patriotic hostess, '^ I shall not 
leave you ; I don't expect to go to bed to-night." The next 
morning Woodhull, with his head and arm bandaged, was 
taken westward and left under the horse-shed, with a guard, 
at Howard's inn. The landlady went out, and invited the 
weak and fainting General to partake of some refreshment. 
She then gave him some bread and butter, smoked beef, and 



66 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

wine sangaree. When the guard asked if she had notling foi 
them, she replied, "I give to prisoners, you can buy."*' The 
General was next conducted to a prison-ship, and as h':-* 
neglected wounds grew worse, he was removed to a Lospita 
at New Utrecht, whither his wife hastened, but reached hi 
bedside only in time to receive his parting sigh. She dis 
tributed the wagon-load of provisions she had brought, among 
the suffering, starving American prisoners, and had the melan- 
choly consolation of conveying his remains to a private ceme- 
tery on his farm, at Mastic. 

On the night of the 29th, Washington secretly withdrew 
his troops from Brooklyn to New York. This retreat of the 
defeated Americans had well nigh been frustrated by the vigi- 
lance of a female tory — Mrs. Rapalje — who lived at Brooklyn 
ferry. She suspected what was going on, and sent her negro 
slave to inform the British General of the intended movement. 
The negro fell in with a Hessian guard, who could not under- 
stand the importance of his errand, and detained him until 
the next morning. He arrived, in consequence, at head- 
quarters just in time to be too late ; the American army, 
with nearly all their baggage, was safely across the river. This 
lady had been irritated against the whigs, by the conduct of 
some of the lawless militia, who had lodged a cannon ball in 
her wall, a few feet over her tea-table, to show their disappro- 
bation of her diinking the prohibited tea. 

After the battle of Long Island, the Americans, finding the 
British slowly enclosing New York on all sides, withdrew from 
the city, and removed their stores far up on the shore of tlia 
Hudson. Gen. Putnam, with his troops, was the last to lav* 



CHAPTER V. 57 

New York. To avoid any parties of the enemy that might 
be advancing towards it, he made choice of a road along the 
river, from which, at a certain point, another road would con- 
duct him in a direction to join the main army. It happened 
that a force of British and Hessians more than twice as larrre 

o 

as his own, was advancing on the road at the same time, and 
but for a fortunate occurrence, would have encountered his 
before he could have reached the turn into the other road. 
In ignorance that the enemy was before them, the British 
officers halted their troops, and stopped at a small country 
seat belonging to Robert Murray, a Quaker. Mrs. Murray, 
by means of refreshments, and her agreeable conversation, 
beguiled them to stay a couple of hours — Gov. Tryon jesting 
with her occasionally about her American friends. She might 
have turned the laugh upon him ; for one half hour, it is said, 
would have enabled the British to secure the road at the turn, 
and cut off Putnam's retreat. The opportunity was lost; 
and it became a common saying among the officers, that Mrs. 
Murray had saved this part of the American army. 



CHAPTER VI. 

OCCUPATION . OF NEW YORK STATE OF THE COUNTRY — • 

RETREAT THROUGH NEW JERSEY AMERICAN SUCCESSES. 

The British took possession of New York without oppo- 
sition. Gen. Howe left troops in the city, and advanced 
northward with his main force, endeavoring to gain the rear 
of the American army, and cut off their communication with 
the Eastern States. The movement of the two armies was 
marked by devastation of the country through which they 
passed. The Hessians were the peculiar terror of the de- 
fenceless people. The wife of Capt. Whetten, who had re- 
moved his family from New York to New Rochelle, one day 
observed that black colors were hoisted in a field near her 
house, and asked a British officer what it meant. " Heaven 
help you, madam," was the reply ; " a Hessian camp is to be 
set up there." It turned out better, however, than was an- 
ticipated. A good feeling was speedily established between 
her and the Hessians, who came almost daily to the house ; 
for her acquaintance with the low Dutch dialect, then fami- 
liarly spoken in many families in New York, enabled her to 
converse readily with them. In consequence of this partiality, 
her house was exempted from depredations to which many of 



CHAPTER VI. 59 

her neighbors were subjected, and she was sometimes enabled 
to save their property from destruction. 

At one time, when the village was laid waste, the house of 
Oapt. Whetten escaped destruction, being protected by a guard 
set by a Hessian officer, at that time quartered in it. Mrs. 
Whetten, however, not trusting entirely to the enemy's favor, 
had sent away several articles of value for concealment. A fa- 
mily near them, compelled to fly and leave a dying father in their 
house, entreated her to take care of the helpless invalid, and, 
if possible, save their property from the lapacious soldiers. 
The sacred trust was accepted and fulfilled, but she was not 
able to protect all the articles left by the fugitives. An iron 
chest that stood in the piazza, was plundered while the old 
man was expiring, and while her cares and those of her daugh- 
ters were in requisition for him. The following evening, Mrs. 
Whetten requested her daughters to go some distance, to the 
place were her store had been deposited, for clean sheets to 
furnish a bed for the Hessian officer. The young girls object- 
ed, expressing their opinion — for they supposed that the 
officer, who was present, could not understand English — that 
what they had was good enough for their unwelcome guest. 
The discussion, after being continued some time, was ended 
by the officer's saying — to the no small consternation of the 
ladies — " Do not trouble yourself, madam ; straw is a good 
enough bed for a soldier." It may be conjectured that there 
was no further delay in procuring the sheets. 

But the family was not always so much favored as to be ex- 
empted from aggression. On one occasion, after having 
plundered the house of her mother, hcjqi^d her china toge- 



60 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

ther and broken it in one crash, the Hessians came to Mrs. 
Whetten's to finish their work. They snatched a handkerchief 
from the neck of her daughter, for the purpose of tying up 
various articles they had found about the house. An officer 
soon entered, however, and called them off. At another time, 
when soldiers were robbing the house, a British officer inter- 
posed, beating off his men with his own sword. 

One night, after the family had retired, Mrs. Whetten was 
awakened by a noise, and called her husband, supposing some 
of the Americans had come to the village for provisions. The 
captain rose, and going to open the door, was assailed by 
oaths and cries from soldiers demanding entrance. The in- 
truders spread themselves through the house to seize whatever 
plunder they might find. Several came into the chamber of 
Mrs. Whetten, who was keeping guard over her infant lying 
asleep on a pillow. They rudely snatched the pillow, throw- 
ing off the child on the floor, and demanded money. The 
mother had put her purse in one of her pockets, and hid it 
under the bolster. One of the robbers snatched a pocket 
from under the pillow, which she strove to get away from him. 
Presently, perceiving the man had not taken the pocket con- 
taining her purse, and, that the one in his possession held 
only her snuff-box, she relinquished it after some further show 
of resistance. The soldier bore away his prize, while she 
took card to secrete her treasure. 

The scarcity of provisions caused great suffering among the 
inhabitants of the village, supplies that might reach the con- 
tinental troops being intercepted by the enemy. The little 
the people had was often taken from thorn. At one time a 



CHAPTER VI. 61 

resident sent word to his neighbors that thej could have some 
milk, as he had been lucky enough to procure a cow. By the 
next morning nothing was left of the cow but the head and 
skin — the Hessians having landed and left the usual tokens of 
their presence. The cattle taken were often slaughtered in 
the most wasteful manner — butchered, perhaps, on the road, 
the best parts being cut out, while the rest was left, a fire 
kindled with rails from the fence, and the meat cooked in a 
row of camp-kettles by the roadside. 

Such things were common ; but they did not crush .the 
spirit of patriotism. One mother in New Rochelle, after 
melting all the pewter she had into bullets for her two sons, 
sent them forth to join the continental army. As she stood 
in the door to bid them farewell, one turned back, saying he 
had no gun ; but she bade him go on, for he would find a gun 
to spare in the army. Wlien she had lost sight of both, she 
went back, weeping, into the house, to pray for their safety. 
At this time some thirty of the most respectable ladies in East 
Haddam, Connecticut, met and husked, in a few hours, about 
two hundred and forty bushels of corn. The harvests of 
Connecticut and New Jersey had been got in by the women 
and old men, while the militia of those States were waitino; at 
New York and on Long Island, for the landing of the enemy. 
Their noble example was followed by others whose fathers and 
brothers were fighting the battles of the nation. 

While portions of the British army were ranging through 
Westchester, the peaceful inhabitants were exposed to much 
arnoyance. One family who left tlieir home for safety, and 
returned after a day's absence, found it a scene of desolati n.- 



62 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Not an article of furniture was left, except a bedstead ; a 
iingle glass bottle was the only drinking utensil, and one ham 
NSLS all that remained of the provisions ; having, by good for- 
tune, been hung in an obscure part of the cellar. At another 
time, in broad day, and in sight of the family, a horse was 
Drought up with baskets fastened on either side, and a deliber- 
ate ransacking of the poultry-yard commenced. The baskets 
were presently filled with the fowls, and the turkey-gobbler, a 
noisy patriarch, was placed astride the horse, the bridle being 
thrown over his head. His uneasiness when the whip was 
used, testified by clamorous complaints, made the whole scene 
so amusing, that the depredators were allowed to depart with- 
out a word of remonstrance. One day, when the British were 
in the neighborhood, a soldier entered the house, and walked 
unceremoniously towards the closet. The lady asked what he 
wanted. " Some brandy," was his reply. When she reproved 
him for the intrusion, he presented his bayonet at her breast, 
and calling her a rebel, swore he would kill her, but left the 
house on her threat of sending information to his officer. 

One morning a British captain rode up to a house, and 
asked for the mistress. When she appeared, he told her he 
was much in want of something to eat. She left the room, 
and soon returning, brought a loaf of bread and a knife. This, 
she assured him, was all she had, the soldiers of his array hav- 
ing taken away everything else. " But I will divide this,'* 
she said : " you shall have one half, and I will keep the other 
for my family." This magnanimity so struck the officer, that 
he thanked her cordially, and requested her to let him know 



CHAPTER vr. 63 

if in future any of his men ventured to annoy her, promising 
that the offence should not be repeated. 

The action at White Plains took place on the 2Sth of Oc- 
tober. The British general, discontinuing his pursuit, then 
directed his attention to the American posts on the Hudson, 
with the apparent design of penetrating into New Jersey. 
Fort Washington and Fort Lee were successively taken, and 
other reverses befel the Americans. The army of General 
Washington then retreated across New Jersey before the pur- 
suing enemy for nearly three weeks, and finally across the 
Delaware into Pennsylvania. This retreat was, indeed, " tbe 
darkest hour of the Revolution." The American forces, 
crippled and disheartened by misfortune, diminished daily, till 
but a bare remnant remained. They were exposed during the 
inclement November weather in an open country, without 
tools or camp equipage, and almost destitute of clothes, blan- 
kets, shoes, or provisions. So close was the pursuit, that the 
rear of the army was often in sight of the van of the British, 
who, in their triumphant march, took possession successively 
of Newark, New Brunswick, Princeton and Trenton, and early 
in December found the Delaware the only barrier between 
them and Philadelphia. 

On this march through New Jersey, the beautiful residence 
of Richard Stockton, at Princeton, was directly in the route 
of the British army. Warned of the approach of the victo- 
rious invaders, he had barely time to remove his wife and 
family to a place of safety. His eldest son, Richard, then a 
boy twelve years of age, with an old family servant, remained 
in the house, while everything was left to the mercy of the 



64 DOMKSIIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION 

enemy. The house was pillaged, the horses and stock were 
driven away, and the estate was laid waste. The furniture 
was converted into firewood ; the old wine, stored in the cel- 
lar, was djunk up, and the valuable library, with all the papers 
of Mr. Stockton, committed to the flames. The plate, and 
other valuable articles belonging to the family, had been 
packed in three boxes and buried in the woods, at some dis- 
tance from the mansion. Through treachery, the place oi 
concealment was discovered by the soldiers, and two of the 
boxes were disinterred and rifled of their rich contents. As 
there were no banks for keeping money, every one at that time 
took care of his own. It was usual to bury money as well as 
plate ; to conceal it under stones, or in the sand at the bottom 
of springs of water ; to thrust it behind joists, or between the 
roof and rafters ; lay it under the hearth, put it in teakettles, 
or secrete it in any way ingenuity could devise. Sometimes 
these treasures were forgotten or left by the owners, and it 
was not unusual, years afterwards, to find money on tearing 
down old houses, removing fences, or dioj-^-ins; in cellars. 

On the same day that Washington was driven across the 
Delaware, the British took possession of Rhode Island. They 
now held in their power New York and New Jersey, and it 
was the general expectation that they would cross the Dela- 
ware as soon as the ice was firm, and take possession of the 
capital. Congress adjourned to Baltimore, and many of the 
inhabitants of Philadelphia sought refuge in the country, at no 
great distance from the edge of the Pines. 

We, contented citiz'^ns of a peaceful land, can form but a 
faint conception of the horrors and desolation of those ancient 



CHAPTER VI. 65 

times of trial. The terrors of invasion are things which now- 
adays imagination can scarcely compass ; but then, it was 
rugged reality. The unbridled passions of a mercenary sol- 
diery, compounded not only of the brutal element that forms 
the vigor of every army, but of the ferocity of Hessians, hired 
and instigated to violence and cruelty, were let loose on the 
land. The German troops, as if to inspire especial terror, 
had been sent in advance, occupying, in December, a chain of 
posts extendino; from Trenton to Mount Holly — Rhal com- 
manding at the first, and Donop at the other — while Gren. Howe 
and his main army were rapidly advancing by the great route 
to the Delaware. On the other hand, the river was filled with 
American gondolas, whose crews, landing from time to time 
on the Jersey shore, by their lawlessness and threats of re- 
taliation, kept the peaceful inhabitants in constant alarm. 
The continental army, meanwhile, if it deserved the name, was 
literally scattered along the right bank of the Delaware. 

Family tradition has described the anxious hours passed by 
one sorrowing group of women and children at a little farm- 
house near Evesham — the family of Gen. Reed. Their only 
male attendant was a boy of fourteen, and the wagon was kept 
ready to be driven by him. In case of a sudden advance of the 
British, which would cut them off from the ordinary avenues 
of escape, their plan was formed to cross the river near 
Salem, and push on to the westward settlements. The wives 
and children of American patriot soldiers thought themselves 
safer on the perilous edge of an Indian wilderness, than in the 
neighborhood of the soldiers who, commanded by noblemen — 
by " men of honor and cavnli^'ii-s," for such, according to all 



66 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

heraldry, were the Howes and Oornwallises, the Pereies and 
Kawdons of that day — were sent by a "gracious monarch" to 
lay waste this lani. The British campaigning of our Revolu- 
tion — and no part of it more so than this — is the darkest 
among the daik stains that disfigure the history of the 
eighteenth century. There was, in the one colony of New 
Jeisey, and in this single year, blood enough shed, and misery 
enouo-h produced, to give a sanguinary character to the whole 
war. 

The following extract from the private journal of a lady 
who lived at Burlington, New Jersey, shows something of the 
condition of that part of the country : 

Dec. 16th, 1776. 

" About noon this day, a terrible account of thousands 
comino- into town. My incautious son caught up the spy- 
glass, and was running towards the mill to look at them. He 
returned much dissatisfied, for no troops could he see. As 
he came back, poor Dick took the glass, and resting it 
against a tree, took a view of the fleet. The people on board 
suspected it was an enemy w^ho was watching their motions. 
They manned a boat and sent her on shore, A loud knock- 
ing at my door brought me to it. I was a little fluttered, and 
kept locking and unlocking that I might get my rufiled face a 
little composed. At last I opened it, and half a dozen men, 
all armed, demanded the key of the empty lx)use. I asked 
what they wanted there ; they replied — ' to search for a tory 
who had been spying at them from the mill.' 

" The name of a tory^ so near my own door, seriously 
al.Tui'^d me ; for a poor refugee, dignified by that name, had 



CHAPTER VI. 67 

claimed the shelter of my roof, and was at that very time 
concealed. I rang the bell violently — the signal agreed upon 
if they came to search ; and when I thought he had crept into 
the hole, I put on a very simple look and exclaimed — ' Bless 
me ! I hope you are not Hessians !' ' Do we look like Hes- 
sians P asked one, rudely. ' Indeed, I don't know.' ' Did 
you never see a Hessian ? ' No — never in my life ; but they 
are men ; and you are men ; and may be Hessians for aught I 
know ! But I'll go with you into Col. Cox's house ; though 
indeed it was my son at the mill ; he is but a boy, and meant 
no harm ; he wanted to see the troops.' 

" So I marched at the head of them, opened the door and 
searched every place ; but we could not find the tory. We 
returned — they greatly disappointed ; 1 pleased to think my 
house was not suspected. They left us and searched James 
Verree's and the two next houses ; but no tory could they 
find. In the evening I went to town with my refugee, and 
placed him in other lodgings. I was told to-day of a design 
to seize upon a young man in town, as he was esteemed a tory. 
I thought a hint would be kindly received ; and as I came 
back, called upon a friend of his, and told him. Next day 
he was out of reach of the gondolas." 

The journal continues, at a later period'. 

" By a person from Bordentown, we hear that twelve ex- 
presses came in there to-day from the camp. Some of the 
gondola-men and their wives being sick, and no doctor in town 
to apply to, they were told Mrs. Morris was a skillful woman, 
and kept medicines to give to the poor ; and notwithstanding 



68 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

their late attempts to shoot my poor boy, they ventured to 
come to me, and in a very humble manner begged me to come 
and do something for tham. At first I thought they might 
design to put a trick on me, get me aboard their gondola and 
then pillage my house, as they had done some others ; but on 
asking where the sick folks were, I was told they were lodged 
in the Governor's house. So I went to see them ; there 
were several, both men and women, very ill with a fever ; I 
treated them according to art, and they all got well. I thought 
I had received all my pay when they thankfully acknowledged 
my kindness ; but lo ! in a short time afterwards a very ill- 
lookino; man came to the door and asked for me. When I 
went to him he drew me aside, and asked me if I had any 
friends in Philadelphia. The question alarmed me, suppos- 
ing there was some mischief meditated against that poor city ; 
however, I calmly said — ' I have an ancient father, some 
sisters, and other near friends there.' 

'' ' Well,' said the man, ' do you wish to hear from them, 
or send anything by way of refreshment to them ? If you 
do, I will take charge of it, and bring you back anything you 
may send for.' I was very much surprised, and thought, to 
be sure, he only wanted to get provisions to take to the gon- 
dolas ; but when he told me his wife was one of those I had 
given medicine to, and this was the only thing he could do to 
pay me for my kindness, my heart leaped with joy, and I set 
about preparing something for my dear absent friends. A 
quarter of beef, some veal, fowls and flour, were soon put up, 
and about midnight the man called and put them aboaid his 



CHAPTER VI. 69 

boat. He left them at the Point — whence my beloved frien/ia 
took them to town. 

^' Two nights afterwards, a loud knocking at our front door 
greatly alarmed us, and opening the chamber window, we 
heard a man's voice, saying, ' Come down softly and open 
the door, but bring no light.' There was something myste- 
rious in such a call ; but we concluded to go down and set 
the candle in the kitchen. When we got to the front door we 
asked, ' Who are you ?' The man replied, ' A friend ; open 
quickly.' So the door was opened : and who should it be 
but our honest gondola-man, with a letter, a bushel of salt, a 
jug of molasses, a bag of rice, some tea, coffee and sugar, and 
some cloth for coats for my poor boys ; all sent by my kind 
sisters ! 

" How did our hearts and eyes overflow with love to them, 
and thanks to our Heavenly Father, for such seasonable sup- 
plies ! May we never forget it ! Being now so rich, we 
thought it our duty to hand out a little to the poor around us, 
who were mourning for want of salt; so we divided the 
bushel, and gave a pint to every poor person who came for 
it — having abundance left for our own use." 

In the midst of the universal gloom, when the hopes of the 
country were on the verge of utter extinction, a sudden and 
unexpected turn was given to affairs. Washington conceived 
and executed the daring plan of crossing the Delaware, and 
making an attack on the advanced posts of the enemy. He 
crossed, accordingly, on the night of December 25th, sur- 
prised the Hessians at Trenton by an attack, and took a 
thousand prisoners, their commander. Col. Rhal, being killed 



70 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

This brilliant success was inspiriting. The battle of Prince* 
ton, fought on the 3d of January, 1777, was also fortunate 
for the Americans, and Philadelphia was relieved from 
further alarm. 

When news of the passage of the Delaware was brought to 
the mother of Washington, she expressed pleasure at the in- 
telligence, but disclaimed praise for her son, and listened 
calmly to the congratulations of her visitors. She was then 
residing in the village of Fredericksburg, whither she had 
been removed by Washington before he took the command of 
the American army at Cambridge. She remained there dur- 
ing nearly the whole period of the Revolution. 

One little incident illustrates the spirit of the women at 
this time. A lady of New Jersey, at whose house several 
American officers were quartered, occupied herself before the 
battle, with other women, in preparing bandages and wrappings 
for the use of the soldiers — every article of linen in the house 
having been torn up for that purpose. Her husband was 
absent, but returned just in time to join the troops, only 
stopping at home to change his wearied horse for another. 
As he galloped down the lane leading from the house, he 
heard his wife's voice calling after him, and saw her leaning 
from a window. He turned and rode back to hear her part- 
ing words — which were — " Remember to do your duty ! T 
would rather hear that you were left a corpse on the field, than 
that you had played the part of a coward !" 

Gen. Mercer was mortally wounded at the battle of Prince- 
ton His death-bed was attended by two females of the So- 
ciety of Frisnds, who inhabited the house to which he wa? 



CHAPTER VI. 71 

carried, and refusing to fly during the action, were there when 
he was brought wounded and dying to the threshold. The 
effect of these American successes was decisive. In a short 
time Washington had overrun the northern part of New Jer- 
sey, and the people rose in every direction to drive out the 
invaders from whose cruelty they had suffered so much. 
The British army was soon restricted to two posts — New 
Brunswick and Amboy. Congress returned to Philadelphia, 
and agents were sent to France and other courts to negotiate 
for the acknowledgment of American Independence, and for 
aid in the struggle 



CHAPTER YII. 

6EXTrMEyT OF EUROPE WINTER QUARTERS NEW ATTEMPT 

OV PHILADELPHIA OCCUPATION MARCH OF BURGOYNE 

MURDER OF JANE M^CREA. 

The powers of Europe had regarded the struggle, so far, 
with wonder and sympathy. The novelty of the spectacle of 
a new nation suddenly rising up to dispute the possession of 
America with proud and powerful Britain — the grandeur of 
the idea of an independent empire in the New AVorld — had 
awakened universal attention ; and jealousy of England, as well 
as respect for the common interests of mankind, caused a 
general wish to prevail for the success of the American cause 
France was deeply interested in its favor ; and the high repu 
tation and popularity of Dr. Franklin, who was at the court.^ 
increased the general enthusiasm. Several gentlemen of rank 
and fortune proffered their services. The young Marquis de La 
Fayette, having fitted out a vessel at his own expense, arrived 
in the spring of 1777, and received from Congress the appoint- 
ment of 3Iajor-General. 

There was a suspension of important operations in both 
armies till the latter part of May, varied only by a Biitish 
oxpedition up the Hudson to Peekskill, for the purpose of 



CHAPTER VII. 73 

destroying stores ; a similar one under Tryon against Dan- 
bury, Connecticut, in which the town was burned ; and one by 
some Connecticut militia against Sag Harbor, on Long Island. 
Washington took the opportunity of having his army inoculated 
for the small-pox, and went into winter quarters in Morristown. 
It was probably while he was at Pluckemin, that 3Irs. Washing- 
ton arrived. When the carriage stopped, and a female in a plain 
russet gown, with white handkerchief neatly folded over her 
neck, was seen, the lady whose house was the chief's head- 
quarters, imagined her to be a domestic. But she was unde- 
ceived when the Greneral went forward to receive her, assisted 
her from the carriage, and, after the first greeting, began to 
inquire after his pet horses. A ball was given in honor of the 
arrival of " Lady Washington," at which her brave husband 
himself condescended to lead a minuet ; it being the first oc- 
casion, in a long time, on which he had been known to dance. 
The life in camp, with all its privations and trials, was 
sometimes pleasant enough, even to the ladies. Mrs. Knox 
often remarked that she lived more in one year at this period 
of excitement, than in a dozen of ordinary life. Trying as 
were some scenes through which patriotic wives were called 
to pass, there were times when care was cast aside, and a brief 
repose was granted from the fears of war. Yet they knew not 
what an hour might bring forth. At one time, when the ladies 
••emained later than usual in camp on the Hudson, an alarm 
was given that the enemy was approaching from Xew York 
The aids-de-camp proposed sending them away under an escort. 
But Washington would not consent, saying that their presence 
would inspire courage for a J^rave defence. The night was 



74 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

dark, and the words of command from the officers, the march- 
ing of the troops, the dragging of artillery into the yard, and 
the noise of removing the windows, the house itself being filled 
with soldiers,, gave " dreadful note of preparation." The 
enemy, however, probably finding there was no hope of a sur- 
prise, withdrew without coming to blows. 

The description given by Chastellux of head-quarters at 
Newburgh, may show how plainly the. great American chief 
was often lodged. " They consist of a single house, built in 
the Dutch fiishion, and neither large nor commodious. The 
largest room, converted by Gen. Washington into his dini ig- 
room, is tolerably spacious; but it has seven doors and oaly 
one window. The chimney is against the wall, so that tbore 
is but one vent for the smoke, and the fire is in the room itsr^lf. 
I found the company assembled in a small room, which seri'ed 
as a parlor. At nine, supper was served ; and when bed-tirae 
came, I found that the chamber to which the General con- 
ducted me was the very parlor spoken of, wherein he ]\iA 
made them place a camp-bed. We assembled at breakfi 3t 
the next morning at ten, during which interval my bed m xs 
folded up, and my chamber became the sitting-room for t'le 
whole afternoon. The smallness of the house, and the incua- 
venience to which I saw that General and Mrs. Washingbn 
had put themsolves to receive me, made me apprehensive '( s^ 
jM. Rochambeau might arrive on the same day." 

Another incident, remembered by an aged veteran, exhibits 
the kindness of Mrs. Washington towards those in the humblest 
sphere. It occurred when she came to spend the cold seaS'^n 
with her husband in winter-quarters. There were but two 



CHAPTER VII. 75 

frame-houses In the settlement, and neither had a finished 
upper story. The General was contented with his rouirh 
dwellinir, hut wished to prepare for his wife a more retired and 
comfortable apartment. He sent for the young mechanic, and 
desired him and one of his fellow-apprentices to fit up a room 
in the upper story for the accommodation of Lady Washington 
through the winter. She herself arrived before the work was 
commenced. " She came," says the narrator, " into the place 
— a portly-looking, agreeable woman of forty-five — and said to 
us: 'Now, young men, I care for nothing but comfort here; 
and should like you to fit me up a beauffet on one side of the 
room, and some shelves and places for hanging clothes on the 
other.' Wc went to work with all our might. Every morn- 
ing about eleven Mrs. Washington came up stairs with a glass 
of spirits for each of us ; and after she and the General had 
dined, we were called down to eat at their table. We worked 
very hard, nailing smooth boards over the rough and worm- 
eaten planks, and stopping the crevices in the walls made by 
time and hard usage. Then we consulted together how we 
could smooth the uneven floor, and take out, or cover over 
some of the huge black knots. We studied to do everything 
to pleaFC so pleasant a lady, and to make some return, in our 
humble way, for the kindness of the General. On the fourth 
day, when Mrs. Washington came up to see how we were get- 
ting along, we had finished the work, made shelves, put up the 
pegs on the wall, built the beauffet, and converted the rough 
garret into a cnmfoi table apartment. As she stood looking 
round, I said, ' Madam, w^ have endeavored to do the best we 
could; I hope we have suited you.' She replied, smiling, ' I 



76 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

am not only satisfied, but highly gratified with what you have 
done for my comfort.' " 

The English Grenerals, deeply mortified at their discomfiture 
in New Jersey, resolved on a new and more elaborate attempt 
on Philadelphia, and in July, 1777, set sail, with the most 
complete equipment they had yet been able to prepare, for 
the capes of the Chesapeake, The army landed near the 
head of the Elk, in Maryland, August 2Sth, and marched to 
encounter the continental forces, which were withdrawn across 
the Brandywine to make a stand for the defence of the capital. 

A little incident that occurred while the Americans were 
encamped here, shows the part taken by tW ladies. A Mrs. 
Biddle chanced to hear that a large British foraging party was 
within the distance, of a few miles ; that orders had been is- 
sued for a party to start before day for the purpose of cutting 
oif their retreat, and that, as an engagement might be expected, 
the women were directed to leave the camp. Not willing to 
consider herself included in the order, she sent word to General 
Washington that as the officers would return hungry and fa- 
tigued from the expedition, she would, if allowed to stay, make 
provision for their refreshment. He assured her she might 
remain in safety, but recommended that she should hold her- 
self in readiness to remove at a moment's warning. She im- 
mediately despatched her servant through the neighborhood to 
collect provisions. At a late hour the American troops re- 
turned, after a fatiguing march, Mrs. Biddle had the pleasure 
of giving the dinner she had provided to at least a hundred 
officers ; each remarking, as he entered, ^' Madam, we hear 



CHAPTER VII 71 

that you feed the army to-day," which she really did, till not a 
crust remained. 

The disastrous battle of Brandywine, September 11th,. was 
followed by the retreat of the American army to Philadelphia, 
and the adjournment of Congress to Lancaster. The mas- 
sacre of three hundred American soldiers under Gen. Wayne, 
surprised at night near Paoli, took place at this time. The 
efforts of the American Commander-in-chief failed to arrest the 
advance of the British, and he was obliged to withdraw with his 
army. The British entered Philadelphia on the 26th of Sep- 
tember, and the main body of their army encamped at German- 
town. The battle of G-ermantown, so disastrous to the patriots, 
was fought October 4th, and after that Gen. Howe removed 
into the city. His army, on its first entrance, was received 
with a welcome apparently cordial, by some timid or interested 
citizens. A private letter from a lady to her friend, gives an 
account of the taking possession. 

" We had for a neighbor, and an intimate acquaintance, a 
very amiable English gentleman, who had been in the British 
array, and had left the service on marrying a rich and excel- 
lent lady of Philadelphia some years before. He endeavored 
to give my mother confidence that the inhabitants would not 
be ill-treated. He advised that we should be all well dressed 
and that we should keep our houses closed. The army march- 
ed in, and took possession of the town in the morning. We 
were up stairs, and saw them pass tri the State House. They 
looked well — clean and well-clad ; and the contrast between 
them and our poor barefooted and ragged troops was very 
^'reat, and caused a feeling of despair. It was a solemn and 



/b DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

impressive clay ; but I saw no exultation in the enemy, noi 
indeed in those who were reckoned favorable to their success. 

"Early in the afternoon Lord Coinwallis's suite arrived, and 
took possession of my mother's dwelling. But my mother 
was appalled by the numerous train in her house, and shrank 
from having such inmates ; for a guard was mounted at the 
door, and the yard filled with soldiers and baggage of every 
description ; and I well remember what we thought of the 
haughty looks of Lord Rawdon and the other aid-de-camp, as 
they traversed the apartments. My mother desired to speak 
with Lord Cornwallis, and he attended her in the front parlor. 

"She told him of her situation, and how impossible it would 
be for her to stay in her own house with such a train as com- 
posed his lordship's establishment. He behaved with great 
politeness to her ; said he should be sorry to give trouble, and 
would have other quarters looked out for him. They with- 
drew that very afternoon. But it did not last long ; for di- 
rectly the quartermasters were employed in billeting the 
troops, and we had to find room for two officers of artil- 
lery, and afterwards for two gentlemen, secretaries of Lord 
Howe. Gen. Howe, during the time he stayed in Philadel- 
phia, seized and kept for his own use, Mary Pemberton's 
coach and horses, in which he used to ride about the town." 
The neighborhood of the city was infested by gang's of 
armed loyalists, "who threatened the safety of every patriot 
they met. Tempted by the hard money which the British 
promised, they dared any danger, and were willing to commit 
any enormity. 

Howe's first care was to reduce the fortifications on the 



CHAPTER VII. 79 

Delaware, and remove the obstructions prepared by the Ame- 
ricans to prevent the British fleet from ascending the river. 
While Fort MifBin, at Mud Island, and Fort Mercer, at Ked 
Bank, were occupied by their garrisons, he could have no 
communication with his fleet, and was in danger of being soon 
compelled to evacuate the city. Count Donop, detached with 
Hessian troops to take possession of the fort at Red Bank, 
was repulsed and mortally wounded. The invader's fortune, 
however, triumphed ; the Americans were finally driven from 
their posts, and the British gained free communication be- 
tween their army and the shipping. 

While these reverses cast a gloom over the whole country, 
events of importance were transpiring at the North. In the 
spring of this year Gren. Burgoyne arrived at Quebec, having 
been commissioned to invade the States by the way of Lake 
Champlain and the Hudson, with a view to form a communi- 
cation between Canada and New York, and cut off New Eng- 
land from the more southern States. He had secured for the 
British service several tribes of Indians in the country be- 
tween the Mohawk and Lake Ontario. His army of British 
and Germans, Canadians and savages, advanced triumphantly 
southward, spreading dismay and terror as they came, and 
driving the pacific inhabitants from their homes. The inha- 
bitants of the village of Tomhanick, terrified by the news that 
the enemy were at hand, burning and murdering all before 
Ihem, fled to a place called Stony Arabia. The roads were 
crowded with carriages loaded with women and children ; dis- 
tress and weeping were everywhere ; no one spoke to another, 
and the tramping of horses and the dismal creaking of bur- 



so DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

dened wheels, alone interrupted the mournful silence. One 
matron obtained a place for her children in one of the wagons, 
and herself performed the journey on foot. But when she 
reached the place where she hoped to find friends, no door was 
open to her. She wandered from house to house, and at 
length obtained an asylum in the garret of a rich acquaint- 
ance, where a couple of blankets, spread on boards, were 
given her as a bed. The night was passed in tears ; but the 
next day her husband came and brought them to Albany, 
whence they set off with several other families by water. 

Gen. Schuyler, who occupied Fort Edward. on the Hudson, 
was forced to retreat, but embarrassed the enemy's march by 
destroying bridges and felling trees. During this retreat, 
Mrs. Schuyler went herself in her chariot from Albany to 
Saratoga, to see to the removal of her furniture. While there, 
she received directions from the General to set fire, with her 
own hand, to his extensive fields of wheat, and to require his 
tenants and others to do the same, rather than suffer them to 
be reaped by the enemy. 

Burgoyne reached Fort Edward, July 30th, and despatch- 
ed Col. Baum, a German officer, to sieze some stores at Ben- 
nington, where he was defeated by Gen. Stark at the head of 
the New Hampshire militia. Immediately before this battle. 
Stark, with several of his officers, stopped to obtain a 
draught of milk and water at the house of Mr. Munro, a 
loyalist, who chanced to be absent. One of the officers walk- 
ed up to Mrs. Munro, and asked where her husband was. 
She replied that she did not know ; whereupon he drew his 
sword, and endeavored to intimidate her into a more satisfac- 



CHAPTER vrr. 81 

tory answer. The General, hearing the commotion, severely 
reproved the officer for his uncivil behavior to a woman ; and 
the offender went out, apparently much abashed. Mrs. 
Munro always remembered Stark's words — " Come on, my 
boys," — as they marched to battle. The firing continued till 
late ; and after a sleepless night, Mrs. Munro and her sister 
repaired with the earliest dawn to the battle-field, carrying 
pails of milk and water — and wandering among the heaps of 
slain and wounded, relieved the thirst of sufferers, of whom 
some — the Hessians — were unable to express their thankful- 
ness, save by the mute eloquence of grateful looks. Towards 
noon wagons were sent to convey them to hospitals, and to 
bring away the dead for burial. 

The consequence of this battle was the delay of the British 
at Fort Edward for nearly a month. The tragedy of the 
murder of Miss McCrea, which caused so deep a sensation 
both in Europe and America, occurred while Burgoyne's army 
was approaching the fort. The young lady was on a visit to 
a widow, Mrs. McNiel. Her house stood near the foot of the 
hill, a little northward from the fort, which was surrounded 
by a cleared and cultivated plain. The hill-side was covered 
with bushes, while a quarter of a mile above, on the summit 
of the hill, a huge pine tree shadowed a clear spring. 

Jane McCrea was friendly to the English, having formed a' 
matrimonial engagement with a young man, David Jones, who 
had taken part with them. It is supposed she had been coun- 
selled by her lover not to leave Mrs. McNiePs house till the 
advance of the British troops should enable both to join him. 

This ni:iy account for her remaining unprotected in so ex- 
4* 



82 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

posed a situation, although alarmed by rumors of the approach 
of the Indians, and reminded of her danger by the Americans 
at the fort. The woods beino; filled with American scoutins; 
parties, it would have been dangerous for her lover to attempt 
a visit to her. 

The timid but confiding girl expected, from hour to hour, 
intelligence from her betrothed, and awaited the long desired 
moment when they should meet to part no more. She and 
her fiiond were at last alarmed by seeing a party of Indians 
advancing towards the house. The savagas had been a terror 
to all that part of the country, and the tales told of their un- 
sparing cruelty were fresh in remembrance. Their first im- 
pulse was to endeavor to escape ; but the Indians made signs 
of a pacific intent, and one of them held up a letter, intimat- 
ing that it would explain their business.* This removed all 
apprehensions, and the letter was tak^n from the messenger. 
It proved to be from Capt. Jones. He entreated Jane and 
her friend to put themselves under the protection of the In- 
dians, whom he had sent for the purpose of taking charge of 
them, and who would escort them in safety to the British 
camp. 

The two women, notwithstanding some misgivings, lost no 
time in preparation, and set off under the guidance of the 
savages. It happened that two separate parti3S of Indians, 
commanded by two independent chiefs, had come forth on 
this enterprise. They had another object in view — an attack 

* Mr. Lossing says they were taken forcibly from the house by the 
Indians. The particulars of the murder were told Mr. Sparks bv 
Standish. 



CHAITER VII. 83 

uprn a picket guard stationed in the woods on the hill. Tliiii 
arrangement, it is probable, was not known to Jones, or he 
would hardly have trusted the safety of Miss McCrea to the 
contingencies of such an expedition. 

The party attacking the guard rushed upon it through the 
woods from diflferent points, making the forest resound with 
their horrible yelling ; killing the lieutenant and five others, 
and wounding four more. One of the guard was Samuel 
Standish, whose post was near the pine tree. He discharged 
his musket at an Indian, and ran down the hill towards the 
fort ; but being intercepted on the plain by three Indians, 
who rushed from the thicket, fired at and wounded him 
slightly, and then secured him, he was forced to re-ascend the 
hill, where he saw several Indians at the spring beneath the 
pine tree. 

Here he was left alone, bound, and expecting death every 
moment, to witness, at a short distance, the appalling scene 
that ensued. Another party of Indians came in a few min- 
utes 'up the hill, bringing with them Miss McCrea and her 
companion. The two parties of savages here met ; and it 
was presently apparent that a violent altercation had arisen 
between them. The dispute was about the division of the 
reward they were to receive for the service rendered. The 
savages to whom the mission had been entrusted, it appears, 
were not aware of the relation in which the girl stood to their 
employer, and looked upon her rather as a prisoner, decoyed 
by a stratagem into their power. This supposition accounts 
for their conduct, consistently with the usages of the Indiana 
in the case of captives whom th?y fvared to lose. The quar- 



84 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

rel became furious ; violent words and blows ensued, and in 
the midst of the fray, one of the chiefs fired at Miss McCrea. 
The shot entered her breast ; she sank to the ground and in- 
stantly expired. The Indian grasped her long, flowing locks, 
drew his knife and took off the scalp ; then, leaping from the 
ground with a yell of savage exultation, he brandished it in 
the air, and tossed it in the face of a young warrior who stood 
near him. 

This murder terminated the quarrel, and the Indians, fear- 
ful of being pursued by men from the fort, where the alarm 
had already been given, hurried away with their two prison- 
ers, Standish and Mrs. McNiel, towards Gen. Frazer's en- 
campment on the road to Fort Anne. The body of the 
murdered girl was left under the tree, gashed in several places 
by a tomahawk or scalping knife, and was found, with the 
others who had been slain, by the party in pursuit. A mes- 
senger was immediately despatched with the dreadful tidings 
to her brother, who soon after arrived and took charge of his 
sister's corpse. It was buried on the east side of the river, 
about three miles below the fort. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE BATTLES OF SARATOGA THE PRISONERS AT CAM- 
BRIDGE. 

General Burgoyne, in the midst of a wilderness, and 
surrounded by enemies, had littie reliance on his savage allies. 
Before the middle of September he broke up his encamp- 
ment, crossed the Hiidson and took his position on the heights 
and plains of Saratoga. Gen. Gates, who had recently been 
appointed to the command of the northern American army, 
had removed from the mouth of the Mohawk, and occupied 
Behmus' Heights, near Stillwater. By the ISth of September 
Burgoyne had advanced within two miles of the American 
camp, and on the 19th was fought the bloody battle of Still- 
water. Burgoyne then determined to await the co-operation 
of Gen. Clinton from New York ; but his Canadian and In- 
dian forces began to desert him on the prospect of a reverse. 

After frequent skirmishes, another general battle was fought 
on the 7th of October. This, though a fierce and desperate 
conflict, proved decisive in favor of the Americans. The journal 
of the Baroness Biedesel, the wife of one of the German officers 
in the royal army, who, with her three children, had followed its 
march, describes these memorable scenes. On that day the Eng- 

H 



86 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

lish generals, Burgoyne, Phillips, and Frazer, were invited to 
dine with her and the Baron. She had observed in the morning 
an unusual movement in the camp ; and had seen a number 
of armed Indians in their war dresses, who answered " War ! 
war !" to her inquiries whither they were going. As the din 
ner hour approached, an increased tumult, the firing, and the 
yelling of the savages, announced the approaching battle. 
The roar of artillery became louder and more incessant. At 
four o'clock, instead of the guests invited, Gen. Frazer was 
brought in mortally wounded. The table already prepared 
for dinner, wiis removed to make room for his bed. 

The Baroness, terrified by the noise of the conflict raging 
without, expected every moment to see her husband also led 
in pale and helpless. Towards night he came to the house, 
dined in haste, and desired his wife to pack up her camp fur- 
niture, and be ready for removal at an instant's warning. His 
dejected countenance told the disastrous result. Lady Ack- 
land, whose tent was adjoining, was presently informed that 
her husband was wounded and a prisoner ! Thus through the 
long hours till day, the kind ministries of the Baroness were 
demanded by many suff'erers. " I divided the night," she 
says, " between her I wished to comfort, and my children, 
who were asleep, but who I feared might disturb the poor 
dying General. Several times he begged my pardon for the 
trouble he thought he gave me. About three o'clock I was 
informed he could not live much longer ; and as I did not 
wish to be present at his last struggle, I wrapped ray children 
in blankets, and retired into the room below. At eight in the 
morning he expired." 



CHAPTER vnr. 87 

All day the cannonade continued, and the women attended 
the wounded soldiers who were brought in. Frazer's last re- 
quest had been that he should be buried at six in the evening 
in the great redoubt on the hill, and the retreat of the British 
was delayed for this purpose. The generals, with their reti- 
nues, followed the corpse to the spot in the midst of a heavy 
fire from the Americans ; for Gen, Gates knew not that it 
was a funeral procession. The women stood in full view of 
the scene, while the deepening shadows of evening closed 
around the group thus rendering the last service to one of 
their number, while each might anticipate his own death in 
the next report of artillery. " Many cannon balls, said the 
Baroness, " flew close by me ; but I had my eyes directed 
towards the mountain where my husband was standing amidst 
the fire of the enemy, and I did not think of my own danger." 

The story of female heroism and fidelity with which the 
name of Lady Harriet Ack.land is associated, belongs to this 
time. She was the wife of Maj. Ackland, one of Buro-oyne's 
officers, and like Madame de Kiedesel, had accompanied the 
army from Canada to Saratoga, her vehicle of conveyance a 
small two-wheeled tumbril, drawn by one horse, over almost 
impassable roads and through extensive forests. The women 
generally followed in the rear of the artillery and baggige, but 
heard all the uproar in encounters with the enemy. 

When the fate of Ackland was announced, his unhappy 
wife, sustained by the counsels of her friend the BaronL\ss, 
determined to join him in the American camp. She sent a 
message to Gen. Burgoyne, to ask permission to depart. The 
British commander was astonished at this application ; he 



88 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

could hardly understand the courage of a woman, who after 
suffering so long the agitation of suspense, exhausted by want 
of rest and want of food, was ready to brave the darkness of 
nif^ht and the drenching rain for many hours, and to deliver 
herself to the enemy, uncertain into what hands she migh' 
fall ! " The assistance I was able to give," he says, " wa? 
small indeed. I had not even a cup of wine to offer her 
All I could furnish was an open boat, and a few lines written 
on dirty and wet paper to Gen. Gates, recommending her to 
his protection." 

She set out in an open boat, accompanied by the British 
chaplain Brudenell, her own maid, and her husband's valet, 
who had been severely wounded in the search for his master 
when first missing from the field of battle. They went down 
the river during a violent storm of rain and wind, and airived 
at the American outposts in the night, having suffered much 
from wet and cold. The sentinel of the advance-guard heard 
the sound of oars, and hailed the boat. What must have been 
his surprise to hear that a woman had braved the storm on 
such an errand ! He sent for Maj. Dearborn, the ofiicer of 
the guard, who invited Lady Ackland to his guard house, 
offered her a cup of tea and every accommodation in his 
power, and gave her the welcome intelligence of her husband's 
safety. In the morning she experienced the kindness of Gen. 
Gates, receiving every attention which her circumstances re- 
quired. She was conveyed, under a suitable escort, to the 
quarters of Gen. Poor on the heights, to her wounded hus- 
band ; and there remained till he was taken to Albany. Her 
resolution and devotion to him touched the feelings of the 



CHAPTER VIII. 89 

Americans, and won the admiration of all who heard her 
Btory. 

That nio-ht the British army commenced its retreat, leav- 
ing the sick and wounded ; a flao; of truce wavino; over the 
hospital thus abandoned to the mercy of the foe. The rain 
fell in torrents all day of the 9th, and it was dark when they 
reached Saratoga. Madame de Riedesel suiFered cruel sus- 
pense as to the fate of her husband. She had taken charge 
of some valuables belongino; to the officers, and havino- no 
place to change her drenched apparel, lay down with her 
children upon some straw by the fire. Her provisions were 
shared the next day with the officers ; and being insufficient 
to satisfy their hunger, she made an appeal to the Adjutant- 
General in. their behalf. 

Again the alarm of battle, and reports of muskets and can- 
nons, drove them to seek shelter in a house, which was fired 
at under the impression that the generals were there. It was 
occupied by women and crippled soldiers. They were obliged 
at last to descend into the cellar, where the Baroness laid her- 
self in a corner, supporting her children's heads on her knees. 
The night was passed in the utmost terror and anguish ; and 
with the morning the terrible cannonade commenced anew. 
So it continued for several days. But in the midst of the 
dreadful scenes, when the Baron spoke of sending his family 
to the American camp, the heroic wife declared that nothing 
v/ould be so painful to her as to owe safety to those with whom 
he was fighting. He thon cons3nted that she should continue 
to follow the army. " However," she sa3^s, " the apprehen- 
sion that he might have marched away, repeatedly entered 



90 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

my mind ; and I crept np the staircase more than once to 
dispel my fears. When I saw our soldiers near the watch- 
fires, I became more calm, and could even have slept." 

" The want of water continuing to distress us, we were 
extremely glad to find a soldier's wife so spirited as to fetch 
some from the river, an occupation from which the boldest 
might have shrunk, as the Americans shot every one who ap- 
proached it. They told us afterwards that they spared her 
on account of her sex. I endeavored to dispel my melancholy 
by continually attending to the wounded. I made them tea 
and cofi'ee, and often shared my dinner with them. One day 
a Canadian ofiicer came creeping into our cellar, and was 
hardly able to say that he was dying with hunger. I felt 
happy to oiier him my dinner, by eating which he recovered 
his strength." 

At length Burgoyne and his officers decided on surrender. 
On the 17th the capitulation was carried into effect. The 
generals waited upon G-ates, and the troops yielded themselves 
prisoners of war. " At last," writes Madame de Hiedesel, 
" my husband's groom brought me a message to join him with 
the children. I once more seated myself in my dear calash ; 
and while driving through the American camp, was gratified 
to observe that no one looked at us with disrespect, but on 
the contrary, greeted us, and seemed touched at the sight of 
a captive mother with three children "When I drew near the 
tents, a fine-looking man advanced towards me, helped the 
children from the calash, and kissed and caressed them. He 
then offered me his arm, and tears stood in his eyes. ' You 



CHAPTER VIII. 91 

tremble, madam,' said lie ; ' do not be alarmed.' He then 
ushered me into the tent of Gen. Gates, whom I found en- 
gaged in fii.ndly conversation with Burgoyne and Phillips. 
Gen. Burgoyne said to me — ' You can now be quiet and free 
from all apprehension of danger.' 

" All the generals remained to dine with the American com- 
mander. The gentleman who had received me with so much 
kindness, came and said to me ; ' You may find it embarrassing 
to be the only lady in so large a company of gentleman. AVill 
you come with your children to my tent, and partake of a 
frugal dinner .?' ' You show me so much kindness,' replied 
J, ' I cannot but believe that you are a husband and a father.' 
He informed me that he was Gen. Schuyler. The dinner was 
of excellent smoked tongues, beefsteaks, potatoes, fresh butter, 
and bread. After our dinner. Gen. Schuyler begged me to 
pay him a visit at his house near Albany, where he expected 
that Gen. Burgoyne would also be his guest. I sent to ask my 
husband's directions, and he advised me to accept the invita- 
tion. 

" Our reception at Albany, from Gen. Schuyler and his wife 
and daughters, was not like the reception of enemies, but of 
the most intimate friends. They loaded us with kindness ; 
and they behaved in the same manner towards Gen. Burgoj^ne, 
though he had without any necessity ordered their splendid 
country-seat near Saratoga to be burnt. All their actions 
proved that at the sight of the misfortunes of others, they 
quickly forgot their own. Burgoyne was so much affected by 
this generous deportment, that he said to Schuyler : ' You 
^ve too kind to me, who have done you so much injury.' 



92 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

*■ Such is the fate of war,' Schuyler replied ; ' let us not 
dwell on this subject.' We remained three days with that 
excellent family, and they seemed to regret our departure." 

It was one of the most picturesque incidents of the war, that 
the captive British general with his suite, should be entertained 
by those whose property he had wantonly laid waste. Gen. 
Schuyler had written from Saratoga to his wife, to make every 
preparation for giving the prisoners the best reception. This 
narrative teaches us one of the great lessons belonging to the 
story of battle and victory. In the midst of admiration for 
the brilliant achievement of Saratoga, we should not lose pity 
for the disasters that accompanied the triumph. We may see 
humanity and courtesy prevailing in the midst of the strife. 
'' If the figures of the picture are fiarce and repulsive — the 
figures of brethren armed against brethren — of mercenary 
Germans and frantic savages — Canadian rangars and Ameri- 
can ploughmen — all bristling together with the horrid front of 
war, what a charm of contrast is presented, when among 
these stern and forbidding groups is beheld the forms of 
Christian women moving to and fro, softening the misfortunes 
of defeat, and checking the elation of victory." 

The prisoners were conveyed to Boston, and, after a stay 
of three weeks, were removed to Cambrido-e. A letter written 
by a Cambridge lady, dated Nov. 11, 1777, thus describes 
their entrance : " Last Thursday, which was a very stormy 
day, a large number of British troops came softly through the 
town by Watertown to Prospect Hill. On Friday we heard 
the Hessians were to make a procession in the same route. 
To be sure the sight was truly astonishing. I never had the 



CHAPTER vrii. 93 

least idea iliat the creation produced sucli a sordid set of crea- 
tures in human form — poor, dirty, emaciated men, and great 
numbers of women, who seemed to be the beasts of burden, 
having bushel baskets on their backs, by which they were bent 
double. The contents seemed to be pots and kettles, various 
sorts of furniture, children peeping through gridirons and other 
utensils — some very young infants, who were born on the road 
— the women barefoot, clothed in dirty rags. Such effluvia 
filled the air while they were passing, that had they not been 
smoking all the time, I should have been apprehensive of being 
contaminated. After a noble-looking advanced guard. Gen. 
Burgoyne headed this terrible group on horseback. The 
other generals, also clothed in blue cloaks — Hessians, Wal- 
deckers, Anspackers, Brunswickers, etc. — followed. The 
Hessian generals gave us a polite bow as they passed. Not 
so the British. Their baggage-wagons were drawn by poor, 
half-starved horses. But to bring up the rear, another fine, 
noble-looking guard of American brawny victorious yeomanry 
— some of our wagons drawn by fat oxen, driven by joyous- 
looking Yankees — closed the cavalcade. The generals and 
other officers went to Bradish's, where they quarter at present. 
The privates trudged through thick and thin to the hills, where 
we thought they were to be confined. But what was our sur- 
prise when, in the morning, we beheld an inundation of those 
disagreeable objects filling our streets, in a manner demanding 
our houses and colleges for their accommodation ! Did the 
brave General Grates ever mean this ? Is there not a degree 
of uukindness in loading poor Cambridge, almost ruined before 
this great army seemed to be let loose upon us .^" 



94 DOxMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

" Gen. Burgoyne dined on Saturday in Boston witli 
Gen. — . He rode tlirough the town properly attended, 
down Court street and through the main street ; and on 
his return walked on foot to Charlestown Ferry, followed by 
a great number of spectators as ever attended a Pope ; and 
generously observed to an officer with him, the decent and 
modest behavior of the inhabitants as he passed ; saying, if he 
had been conducting prisoners through the city of London, 
not all the guards of Majesty could have prevented insults. 
He likewise acknowledges Lincoln and Arnold to be great 
generals. It is said we shall have not less than seven thousand 
persons to feed in Cambridge and its environs, more than its 
inhabitants. Two hundred and fifty cords of wood will not 
serve them a week. Think, then, how we must be distressed ! 
Wood has risen to five pounds ten shillings a cord, and but a 
little to be purchased. I never thought I could lie down to 
sleep surrounded by these enemies ; but we strangely become 
inured to those things which appear difficult when distant." 

The ladies belonging to Burgoyne's army received many 
courtesies from Mrs. Hancock and others in Cambridge. Gen. 
Riedesel and his family were lodged in one of the best houses, 
and the Baroness occasionally visited whig ladies in the village 
and Boston. A ball given by her was so brilliant and so nu- 
merously attended, that the house was surrounded with people, 
who began to suspect a conspiracy. She noticed the American 
method of telegraphing by lighting torches on surrounding 
heights, when they wished to call troops together, and called 
to mind that when Gen. Howe attempted to rescue the troops 
detained in Boston, the inhabitants planted their torches, and 



CHAPTER VIII. 95 

a crowd of people, without shoes or stockings, their rifles on 
their shoulders, flocked together. 

The British general, Sir Henry Clinton, had proceeded up 
the Hudson early in October, in hopes of making a diversion, 
by his devastations, in favor of Burgoyne. Two important 
forts (Forts Clinton and Montgomery) were captured, and 
Esopus, now Kingston — one of the earliest Dutch settlements 
in New York, and a populous and wealthy town — was laid in 
ashes. 

A spy, sent after the capture of Fort Montgomery, carried 
a letter from Clinton to Burgoyne, enclosed in a silver bullet, 
which, when taken prisoner, he swallowed. The action was 
observed, and an emetic administered to the messeno-er, who 
was afterwards executed. On the news of Burgoyne 's sur- 
render. Gen. Clinton withdrew to New York. 

The intelligence of the brilliant victories of Saratoga raised 
the hopes of the country, which had been deeply depressed by 
the reverses of Washington's army. The necessity for some 
bond of union between the States had begun to be felt, and, in 
November, the articles of confederation proposed by Franklin 
more than a year .before, were adopted by Congress. ^' This 
confederation amounted to little more than a league of friend- 
ship between the States j" but its deficiencies were hardly 
noticed while a common sense of danger bound all together. 
After the close of the war it was found necessary to revise the 
system for a permanent government. 



^ CHAPTER IX. 

FEMALE AGENCY VALLEY FORGE STATE OF PHILADELPHIA. 

While the American army remained encamped at White 
Marsh, the British being in possession of Philadelphia, Gen. 
Howe made some vain attempts to draw Washington into 
an engagement. An incident of female agency is well remem- 
bered by many aged persons. The house opposite the head- 
quarters of Gen. Howe, in the city, tenanted by William 
and Lydia Darrah, members of the Society of Friends, was 
the place selected by the superior officers of the army for 
private conference, whenever it was necessary to hold consul- 
tations. On the afternoon of the 2d of December, the British 
Adjutant-General called and informed the mistress that he and 
some friends were to meet there that evening, and desired that 
the back room upstairs might be prepared for their reception. 
" And be sure, Lydia," he concluded, " that your family are 
all in bed at an early hour. When our guests are ready to 
leave the house, I will myself give you notice, that you may 
let us out, and extinguish the fire and candles." 

Having delivered this order, the Adjutant-General departed. 
Lydia betook herself to getting all things in readiness. But 



CHAPTER IX 97 

the words she had heard, especially the injuQction to retire 
early, rang in her ears ; and she could not divest herself of 
the feeling that something of importance was in agitation. 
The evening closed in, and the officers came to the place of 
meeting. Lydia had ordered all her family to bed, and her- 
self admitted the guests, after which she retired to her own 
apartment. 

But sleep refused to visit her eyelids. She became more 
and more uneasy, and at last slid from the bed, and taking 
off her shoes, passed noiselessly from her chamber and along 
the entry. Approaching cautiously the apartment in which 
the officers were assembled, she applied her ear to the key-hole. 
For a few moments she could distinguish but a word or two 
amid the murmur of voices. At length there was profound 
silence, and a voice was heard reading a paper aloud. It was 
an order for the troops to quit the city on the night of the 
4th, and march out to a secret attack upon the American 
army at White Marsh. 

Lydia retreated softly to her own room, and laid herself 
quietly on the bed. It seemed to her that but a few moments 
had elapsed, when there was a knocking at her door, ^he 
knew well what the signal meant, but took no heed. It was 
repeated again and again ; and then she rose quickly, and 
opened the door. It was the Adjutant General, who came to 
inform her they were ready to depart. Lydia let them out, 
fastaned the house, and extinguished the lights and fire. 
Again she returned to her chamber ; but her mind was 
more disquieted than ever, for she thought of the danger 
that threatened the lives of thousands of her countrymen. 



98 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION 

Her resolution at length was formed, and at dawn of day she 
waked her husband, and informed him flour was wanted for the 
use of the household, and that it was necessary she should go 
to Frankford to procure it. Taking the bag with her, she 
walked through the snow, having first obtained a written per- 
mission to pass the British lines. She reached Frankford, 
distant four or five miles, and deposited her bag at the mill. 
Now commenced the dano-ers of her undertakino;, for she 
pressed forward witli all haste towards the outposts of the 
American army. Her determination was to apprise G-eneral 
Washington of the danger. 

She was met on her way by an American officer, who had 
been selected by General Washington to gain information re- 
specting the movements of the enemy. He inquired whither 
she was going, and she disclosed the secret, after having ob- 
tained from him a solemn promise not to betray her, since the 
British might take vengeance on her and her family. He 
thanked her for her timely warning, and directed her to go to 
a house near at hand, where she might get something to eat. 
j5ut Lydia preferred returning at once ; and did so, carrying 
her bag of flour, while the officer made all haste to the Com- 
mander-in-chief Preparations were immediately made to 
give the enemy a fitting reception. 

None suspected the grave, demure Quakeress of having 
snatched from the English their anticinated victory ; but after 
til 3 return of the British troops, a loud knocking was heard at 
Lydia's door. The visitor was the Adjutant General, who sum- 
moned her to his apartment, locked Ibe door with an air of 
't^kystery, and motioned her to a seat. After a moment of si- 



CrAPTER IX. 99 

lence, he said — '' Were any of your family up, Lydia, on the 
niglit when I received company in this house r" 

" No," was the reply. ^' They all retired at eight o'clock." 
" It is very strange," said the officer, and mused a few 
minutes. '' You, I know, Lydia, were asleep, for I knocked 
at your door three times before you heard me — yet it is cer- 
tain that we were betrayed. I am altogether at a loss to con- 
ceive who could have given the information of our intended 
attack to Greneral Washington ! On arriving near his encamp- 
ment we found his cannon mounted, his troops under arms, and 
so prepared at every point to receive us, that we have baen 
conipalled to march back without injuring our enemy, like a 
parcel of fools." 

The American army now went into winter quarters at 
Valley Forge. This was a dreary, rugged valley, about twenty 
miles north-west of Philadelphia. The army encamped on its 
mountainous borders. The condition of the troops was de- 
plorable enough to change hope into despair, and presented a 
spectacle unparalleled in history. During one of the most 
rigorous winters ever experienced in the country, the soldiers 
were without shoes, blankets, clothing, or provisions ; and 
their rude lofy-huts, built to accommodate twelve men each, 
scarcely covered them from the falling snow, or sheltered them 
from the cutting blasts. Their feet, cut by the ice, left their 
tracks in blood, and their only bed was straw, on the damp 
ground. Marshall's MS. journal, after describing their des- 
titution and suffering, says : ^' Our enemies revelling in balls, 
attended with every degree of luxury and excess in the city ; 
rioting and wantonly using our houses, utensils, and furniture." 



100 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The farmers of the country refused to exchange their produce 
for the depreciated paper currency, and hard money was ex- 
tremely scarce. Even the jfficers were so destitute of decent 
clothing, it was afterwards jocosely remarked that a single suit 
of dress uniform served them all for dinins; in, when invited 

O 7 

by turns to head-quarters. 

The ladies did not shiink from their share in these priva- 
tions, or from labors of kindness. Mrs. Knight was one of 
many who aided to relieve the horrible sufferings of the army 
— cooking and carrying provisions to them through the snow, 
alone ; even passing through the outposts of the British army 
in the disguise of a market woman. Mrs. Washington, with 
others, by her cheerful endurance of hardship, strengthened 
the fortitude of many who would have complained, and gave 
hope and confidence to the desponding. She soothed the dis- 
tresses of many sufferers, seeking out the poor and afflicted 
with benevolent kindness, extending relief wherever it was in 
her power, and with graceful deportment presiding in the 
Chief's humble dwelling. In a letter to a friend she says, 
" The General's apartment is very small ; he has had a log 
eabin built to dine in, which has made our quarters much more 
tolerable than they were at first." Their table was scantily 
furnished ; but the soldiers fared still worse, sitting down at a 
board of rough planks, set with horn spoons and a few cups, 
the food being often salt herrings and potatoes, without other 
vegetables, or tea, coffae, or sugar. The stone jug passed 
round was filled with water from the nsarest spring ; and rare 
was the privilege of toddy, in which to diink the health of the 
nation. Yefc here, forgetful of herself, the patriot wife 



CHAPTER IX. 101 

anxiously watched the aspect of affairs, and was happy when 
the political horizon brightened. She writes to Mrs. Warren 
— " It has given me unspeakable pleasure to hear that Gen. 
Burgoyne and his army are in safe quarters in your State. 
Would bountiful Providence aim a like stroke at Gen. 
Howe, the measure of my happiness would be complete." 

Some of the whig families who remained in Philadelphia 
were plundered by the soldiers, and often wanted the comforts 
of life. Many ladies here visited the American prisoners, 
carrying them provisions from their own tables. They also 
took food and medicines to the soldiers who were brought to 
the city ill with the camp-fever and placed in empty houses, 
often ministering themselves to their wants. An anecdote of 
an American farmer, Israel Israel, who came from Wilmington 
to bring provisions and money to his mother, entering Phila- 
delphia at night, may give some idea of the state of the times 
A tory neighbor at Wilmington having given him the counter- 
sign for the night, he was permitted to pass by the sentinel at 
the ferry, and went to his mother's house There he found 
his younger brother, who served in the army, and had also 
ventured on a secret visit to his relatives. At eleven o'clock, 
while the family was seated at supper, the tramp of horses was 
heard without, and the rough voices of soldiers at the door. 
These, with a Hessian officer, had been quartered upon the 
family, and of course entered the house at what hours they 
pleased. The terrified mother and sisters entreated the 
brothers to fly, and followed the younger upstairs, where he 
made his escape from the roof. The knocking and shouting 
continued below ; Israel descended, accompanied by the fe- 



102 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

males, and opened the door. The soldiers rushed in, at their 
head the Hessian sergeant, who seized the young man, ex 
claiming, " We have caught the rebel !" A black slave be- 
longing to the household had given information, under threats, 
of his young master''s visit. 

Israel, with great presence of mind, explained that his 
brother was the person meant, produced his uniform, and 
showed that it did not fit him. The serijeant then shook 
hands with him, assuring him that he was convinced of his 
being a loyal subject, and seated himself at the supper-table. 
The ladies were obliged to take their places, and listen in si- 
lence to the coaise remarks of their unwelcome guest, and his 
boastful details of his exploits in slaughtering " the rebels," 
especially in the affair at Paoli. At length he bade the 
family good-night, saying he was on duty, and quitted the 
house. Israel then set out on his journey homeward, but ar- 
rived only to be made a prisoner. The loyalist who had given 
him the countersign, had betrayed the secret of his expedition. 
He and his wife's brother were seized and carried on board 
the royal frigate Roebuck, lying in the Delaware, a few miles 
from the then borough of Wilmington — and directly opposite 
his farm — in order to be tried as spies. 

Being one of the " Committee of Safety," his position un- 
der such an accusation, was extremely critical. On board 
the ship he was treated with the utmost severity. His watch, 
silver shoe-buckles, and various articles of clothing were taken 
from him ; his bed was a coil of ropes on deck, without cov- 
ering from the bitter cold of the night air ; and to all appear- 
Rnce his fate was already decided. The testimony of his tory 



CHAPTER IX. 103 

neighborfi was strong against him. Several were ready to 
swear to the fact, that while the loyal population of the coun- 
try had willingly furnished their share of the provisions needed 
by the ships of war, he had been heard to say repeatedly, 
that he " would sooner drive his cattle as a present to Gen- 
eral Washington, than receive thousands of dollars in British 
gold for them." 

On being informed of this speech, the commander gave orders 
that a detachment of soldiers should proceed to drive the 
rebel's cattle, then grazing in a meadow in full view, down to 
the river, and slaughter them in the face of the prisoners. 
The farm was a mile or more from the river ; but there was 
nothing to intercept the view — the ground from the meadow 
sloping down to the water. 

Mrs. Israel saw the soldiers land from the ships, shoulder 
arms, and advance towards the meadow. In an instant she 
guessed their purpose ; and her resolution was taken. With 
a boy eight years old, whom she bade follow her, she started 
from the house, determined to save the cattle at the peril of 
her life. Throwing down the bars, and followed by the boy, 
she ran to drive the herd to the opening. The soldiers called 
out repeatedly to her to stop, and threatened, if she did not, 
to fire upon her. She heeded not, and they fired. The 
frightened cattle ran in every direction over the field, but not 
one escaped ! The little boy fell ; Mrs. Israel seized him by 
the arm, lifted him over the fence, and herself drove the cat- 
tle into the barn-yard. The assailants, probably not daring, 
for fear of the neighbors, to invade the farm-houses, retraced 
their steps and returned disappointed to the ship. All this 



104 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

scene passed in sight of the officers of the " Roebuck" and 
the two prisoners. 

A kind-hearted sailor sought an opportunity of speaking 
with Israel in private, and asked him if he were a free-mason. 
The answer was in the affirmative. The sailor then informed 
him that a lodge was held on ship-board, and the officers, who 
belonged to it, were to meet that night. The trial was held 
the same day on board ; the tory witnesses we»^e examined in 
due form ; the prisoners were called up before their judges, 
and permitted to answer to the accusations against them. 
Israel, in bold but respectful language, related his story, and 
acknowledged his secret visit to Philadelphia, not in the cha- 
racter of a spy, but to carry relief to his suffi3ring parent and 
her family. Afterwards, watching his opportunity, he made 
to the commanding officer the secret sign of masonic brother- 
hood. The (^ffi^ct was instantly observable. The ^officer's 
stern countenance softened ; his change of opinion, and that 
of the other judges, became evident ; and after some further 
examination, the court was broken up. The acquitted prisoners 
were dismissed, loaded with presents of pins, handkerchiefs, and 
other articles not to be purchased at that time, for the intrepid 
wife, and were sent on shore in a splendid barge, as a mark of 
special honor from the officer in command. 

An anecdote of a female spy is related in the journal of 
Maj. Tallmadge. While the Americans were at Valley Forge, 
he was stationed in the vicinity of Philadelphia with a detach- 
ment of cavalry, to observe the movements of the enemy, and 
limit the range of British foraging parties. His duties re- 
quired the utmost vigilance ; his squad seldom remained all 



CHAPTER IX. 105 

niglit in the same position, and their horses were rarely un- 
saddled. Hearing that a country girl had gone into the city 
with eggs — having been sent by one of the American officers 
to fjain information — Tallmado;e advanced towards the British 
lines, and dismounted at a small tavern within view of their 
outposts. The girl came to the tavern, but while she was 
communicating her intelligence to the Major, the alarm was 
given that the British light-horse were approaching. Tall- 
madge instantly mounted, and as she entreated protection, 
bade her get up behind him. They rode three miles at full 
speed to Germantown, the damsel showing no fear during the 
ride, though there was much firing of pistols, and some wheel- 
ing and charging. 

Tradition relates that some of the women in Philadelphia, 
whose husbands were in the American army, used to procure 
intelligence through a market boy, who came into the city to 
bring provisions, and carried the dispatches sent by his friends 
in the back of his coat. One morning, when there was some 
reason to fear he was suspected, and his movements watched, 
a young girl undertook to get the papers. She went to mar- 
ket, and in a pretended game of romps, threw her shawl over 
the boy's head, thus securing the prize. She hastened with 
the papers to her friends, who read them with deep interest, 
after the windows had been carefully closed. When news 
came of Burgoyne's surrender, the sprightly girl, not daring 
to give vent openly to her exultation, put her head up the 
chimney and gave a shout for Gates. 



CHAPTER X. 

BRITISH PRISONS IN NEW YORK. 

Some notice of the British prisons in New York will bz 
here appropriate ; the more so, as no account of them is given 
in any general history. 

At the battle of Long Island twelve hundred Americans 
fell into the hands of the enemy. These prisoners were dis- 
tributed into the churches of Brooklyn, Flatbush, Flatlands, 
and New Utrecht, while some were put on board the British 
shipping in Gravesend Bay. Here the sick and wounded suf- 
fered much from neglect of cleanliness, breathing an infected 
air, and want of medical attendance. Ten days after the battle, 
Dr. Richard Bailey, of New York, a loyalist, was appointed to 
the charge of them. He was assisted by Dr. Silas Holmes, of 
Norwich, a prisoner. Dr. Bailey procured a sack-bed, sheet 
and blanket for each patient, put them into the adjacent 
barns, and permitted them to visit the neighboring houses to 
buy milk and other refreshments. When the British occu- 
pied New York, the prisoners were removed thither, and 
placed in the city prisons. The tide of war was now turned 
in favor of the royalists. The action at White Plains, and the 
capture of Fort Washington, combined with the defeat a^ 



CHAPTER X. 107 

Brooklyn, placed in their power upwards of four tlousand 
men. If to these we add the private citizens who were ar- 
rested for political considerations in the vicinity of New Yoi k 
and on Lon^- Island, we may safely conclude that the British 
commander had at least five thousand souk to provide for. 

The sudden influx of so many prisoners, the recent capture of 
the city, and the unforeseen conflagration of a fourth part of 
it, threw the commandant's affairs into such confusion, that the 
captives must of necessity have suff'ered much from want of food 
and other comforts. To these privations were superadded the 
wanton cruelty of Capt. Cunningham, the Provost-marshal, 
and his deputies, and the criminal negligence of Sir William 
Howe. The ordinary places of confinement were totally in- 
adequate to contain so vast a number of prisoners. Accord- 
ingly the Sugar House, the North and Middle Dutch Churches, 
the Brick Church, King's (now Columbia) College, the New 
Bridewell, the Old City Hall, and the New Jail, were appro- 
priated to their use. 

Till within a few years the Sugar House stood in Liberty 
street, south of the Middle Dutch Church ; a dark, stone 
building, with small, deep, port-hole looking windows, rising 
tier above tier, exhibiting a dungeon-like aspect. It was five 
stories high, and each story was divided into two dreary 
apartments. On the stones and bricks in the walls were to 
be seen initials and dates, as if done with a prisoner's pen- 
knife or nail. There was a strong, jail-like door opening on 
Liberty street, and another on the south-east, descending into 
a dismal cellar, also used as a prison. There was a walk 
nearly broad enough for a cart to travel around it, where, 



108 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

night and day, two British or Hessian guards walked their 
wear}' rounds. The yard was surrounded by a close board 
fence, nine feet high. " In the suffocating heat of summer," 
says Dunlap, *' I saw every narrow aperture of those 
stone walls filled with human heads, face above face, seeking 
a portion of the external air." While the jail-fever was 
raging, in the summer of 1777, the prisoners were let out, in 
companies of twenty, for half an hour at a time, to breathe fresh 
air ; and inside they were so crowded, that they divided their 
numbers into squads of six each. Number one stood for ten 
nnnutes as close to the window as they could crowd, and then 
number two took their places ; and so on. Seats there were 
none ; and their beds were but straw infested with vermin. 
For many weeks the dead-cart visited the prison every morn- 
ing, into which eight to twelve corpses were flung and piled 
up, like sticks of wood, and thrown into ditches in the out- 
skirts of the city. 

The North Dutch Church, corner of William and Fulton 
streets, was made to hold eight hundred prisoners ; its pews 
were ripped out, and used probably for fuel ; its mahogany pulpit 
was sent to London, and put in a chapel there, and a floor was 
laid across from one galleiy to the other. Bayonet marks are 
yet discernible on the pillars ; and those walls that had rever- 
berated with the praises of the Most High, then resounded with 
curses and blasphemy. In the Middle Dutch Church, says 
Pintard, " the prisoners taken on Long Island, and at Fort 
Washington, sick, wounded and well, were all indiscriminately 
huddled together, by hundreds and thousands. Large numbers 
of them died by disease — and some were undoubtedly poisoned 



CHAPTER X. 109 

by inhuman attendants, for the sake of their watches or silver 
buckles. Soon afterwards it was turned into a ridings-school 
to train dragoon horses. The floor was taken up and the 
ground covered with tan bark. A pole ran across the middle 
for the horses to leap over. The glass was taken from the 
windows, and the shutters unhung." 

A prisoner taken at Fort Washington, who was confined in 
the New Bridewell, says — " On Thursday morning they 
brought us a little provision, which was the first morsel we 
got to eat or drink after eating our breakfast on Saturday 
morning. We never drew as much provision for three days' 
allowance as a man would eat at a common meal. I was there 
three months during that inclement season, and never saw 
any fire except what was in the lamps of the city. There was 
not a pane of glass in the windows, and nothing to keep out 
the cold except the iron grates." The old City Hall stood on 
the site of the present Custom House, and was converted into 
a guard-house, for the main guaid of the city. It had dun- 
geons and prisons bslow ; and a court room on the second 
floor, where the refugee clergy preached during the latter part 
of the war. At first, civil off^mders were confined here ; but 
subsequently whaleboatmen and robbers. 

The New Jail, or " the Provost, now the Hall of Records, 
was destined for the more notorious rebels, civil, naval and 
military. An admission into this modern bastile was enough 
to appal the stoutest heart. On the right hand of the main 
door was Capt. Cunningham's quarters; opposite to which 
was the guard-room. At the entrance door two sentinels 
were always posted^ by day and night. Two more on the firsi 

4* K 



110 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

and second barricades, which were grated, barred and chained 
also at the rear door, and on the platform at the grated door; 
at the foot of the second flight of st^ps leading to the rooms 
and cells in the second and third stories. When a prisoner, 
escorted by soldiers, was led into the hall, the whole guard 
was paraded, and he was delivered over with all formality to 
Capt. Cunningham or his deputy, and questioned as to his 
name, rank, age, &c., all of which were entered in a record 
book. What with the bristling of arms, unbolting of bars 
and locks, clanking of enormous iron chains, and a vestibule 
dark as Erebus, the unfortunate captive might well shrink as 
he crossed the threshold of that door which possibly closed 
on him for life. The northeast chamber, turning to the left, 
on the second floor, was appropriated to officers, and charac- 
ters of superior rank, and was called Congress Hall. In the 
day time the packs and blankets of the prisoners were sus- 
pended around the walls — every precaution being used to keep 
the rooms ventilated, and the walls and floors clean, to pre- 
vent jail fever ; and as the Provost was generally crowded with 
American prisoners or British culprits of every description, 
it is really wonderful that infection never broke out within its 
walls. In this gloomy abode were incarcerated at difi'erent 
periods, many American officers and citizens of distinction, 
awaiting, with sickening hope, the protracted period of their 
liberation. Could these dumb walls speak, what scenes might 
they not disclose ! The Captain and his deputies were enabled 
to fare sumptuously, by dint of curtailing the prisoners' ra- 
tions, exchanging good for bad provisions, and other embezzle- 
ments.' 



o — o o 



CHAPTER X. Ill 

Many of the American officers who were prisoners in New 
Fork, were paroled in January, 1777, and billeted on the 
inhabitants of Flatbush, New Lots, Flatlands and Gravesend 
on Long Island, Congress agreeing to pay two dollars a 
week for their board. The British soldiers also, who in sum- 
mer encamped in tents, when the army retired, on the ap- 
proach of winter, from active service in the field, were usually 
distributed in the dwellings of the inhabitants within the 
British lines. An officer first visited each house, and in pro- 
portion to its size, chalked on the door the number of soldiers 
it must receive. The first notice the hostess received of this 
intrusion was the address: '^ Madam, I have come to take a 
billet on your house." Their hammocks, made of boards 
stripped from some fence or outbuilding, were ranged around 
the room, one tier above another. The best houses were re- 
served as quarters for the officers. In this way American 
women were forced into the society of British officers, and in 
order to conciliate their good will and protection, would invite 
them to tea, and show them other civilities. Some of them 
thus obtained influence which they used to alleviate the hard- 
ships suffiired by their countrymen. 

Col. Graydon, a prisoner taken at Fort Washington, thus 
describes the living at Flatbush, where he was billeted on a 
Dutch family : " Though we were in general civilly enough 
received, it cannot be supposed we were very welcome to our 
Low Dutch hosts, whose habits were extremely parsimonious 
and whose winter provision was barely sufficient for them- 
selves Had they bf^en sure of receiving the two dollars a 
week, it might have reconciled them. They were, however, a 



112 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

people who seemed thoroughly disposed to submit to any power 
that might impose upon them: and whatever might have 
been their propensities at an earlier stage of the contest, they 
xere now the loyal subjects of His Majesty George III. Their 
houses and beds we found clean ; but their living extremely 
poor. A sorry wash made of a sprinkling of bohea, and the 
darkest sugar on the verge of fluidity, with half-baked bread, 
(fuel being among the scarcest articles at Flatbush,) and a 
little stale butter, constituted our breakfast. At our first 
coming, a small piece of pickled beef was occasionally boiled 
for dinner, but to the beef, which was soon consumed, there 
succeeded clippers or clams ; and our unvaried supper was 
supon or mush, sometimes with skimmed milk, but more gen- 
erally with buttermilk blended with molasses, which was kept 
for weeks in a churn, as swill is saved for hogs. I found it, 
however, after a little use, very eatable ; and supper soon 
became my best meal." 

The mother of Col. Graydon came from Pennsylvania and 
waited on Sir William Howe, to solicit permission for her son 
to go home on his parole. The General, influenced by sym- 
pathy for her feelings, after some hesitation gave the desired 
permission. The captives who remained having been kept in 
the dark as to the state of public affairs, one of them furnish- 
ed Graydon with a kind of cypher by which intelligence could 
be conveyed to him. For instance, a lady named was to sig- 
nify the American army ; if that was prosperous, the fact 
was to be indicated by announcing her health and charming 
looks ; and there was a scale in the key by which intelligence 
might be graduated. Others of the prisonars owed their re- 



CHAPTER X. 113 

lease to female Influence. Dr. Z. Piatt, imprisoned in New 
York in 1777, was restored to liberty throuo;b the application 
of his daughter to Sir Henry Clinton ; and in many instances 
clothing and provisions were brought to the captives by their 
anxious female relatives. 

The women of New York did their part bravely in reliev- 
ing the wants and sufferings of the prisoners. The case of the 
Quakeress, Deborah Franklin, who was banished from the city 
by the British commandant for her liberality in thus doing, 
was but one among many. The services of Mrs. Whetten 
are noticed in some of the public journals, and were ac- 
knowledged after the war with gratitude by Washington 
himself The British were sometimes quartered upon her, 
and she was required to board many of the prisoners, 
who had reason to remember her generous kindness. She 
made it her daily business to prepare food for the American 
soldiers, and sent it regularly to the prisons, as well as mush 
to the hospitals, using thus all the Indian meal she could ob- 
tain. She went sometimes with her daughters to see the 
prisoners, and encouraged them by cheerful conversation. 
Occasionally they visited the Provost, where the marshal, 
Cunningham, would now and then show his displeasure by 
kicking over the baskets of food or vessels of soup they 
brought, and beating the unfortunate prisoners with his keys. 
Sometimes he received them with a surly courtesy, making 
himself amends, however, by indulging in boastful language. 
He told a gentleman that these ladies were the " worst rebels 
in New York." They continually provided not only provisions 
but clothes for the use of the captive soldiers, not heeding the 

K* 



114 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

surliness of their jailors, or the risk of indignity to themselves 
Sometimes they went to a guard-house close to the old Sugar- 
house, and the sergeant permitted them to sit at the window 
while the prisoners came into the yard below and talked with 
them. Not satisfied with such daily ministrations, Mrs. 
Whetten often had provisions conveyed to the unfortunate 
inmates of the prison ships. A boat was usually sent to re- 
ceive the supplies. 

The wife of a prisoner thrown into the Provost in 1777, 
came alone from Nyack to the city to visit him and bring provi- 
sions, leaving six children at home. She was detained four 
months, and every day took her husband his meals, which he 
shared with other prisoners. Such and other acts of kind- 
ness were continually performed by women, not only in New 
York, but wherever their good ofiices were needed. They 
visited hospitals daily, and provisions were carried from their 
stores to the captive whose only means of recompense was 
the blessing of those who were ready to perish. Many in the 
country raised grain, gathered it, made bread, and carried it 
to their relatives in prison or in the army, accompanying the 
supply with exhortations never to abandon the cause of their 
country. 

The prisoners who had been taken at the battle of Sara- 
toga fared comparatively well. They were ordered to set out 
for Virginia at the approach of the winter of 1778-9. 
Madame de Riedesel mentions in her letters several instances 
in which the republicanism of the inhabitants of the country 
through which they passed put her to much inconvenience. 
At one place the hostess refused to sell the royalists fresh 



CHAPTER X. 115 

meat, but was softened by the offer of a paper of tea. A day 
or two before they reached their place of destination, their 
Btock of provisions gave out. Coming to a house, they begged 
for some dinner ; but all assistance was denied them, with 
many imprecations upon the royalists. " Seeing some maize, 
I begged our hostess to give me some of it to make a little 
bread. She replied that she needed it for her black people, 
* They work for us,' she added, ' and you come to kill us.' 
Capt. Edmonstone offered to pay her one or two guineas for 
a little wheat, but she refused.'' 

The captive army was quartered in the neighborhood of 
Charlottesville, Virginia — a few miles from the town. Bar- 
racks were built for them on the summit and brow of a ridge, 
and the surrounding land was laid out in several hundred 
gardens — each enclosed with a paling, and cultivated. The 
officers rented houses and settled their families, most of them 
purchasing cows and sheep, and occupying themselves in farm- 
ing. Their society was sought by gentlemen residing in that 
portion of country ; they cultivated the arts and amused them- 
selves with literature, and the time passed not without enjoy- 
ment. The region was remarkably healthy, and the soldiers 
were generally quiet and contented. The Baroness was much 
visited, and remembered long afterwards the hospitality and 
kindness received on a subsequent journey northward. " The 
loyalists," she says, " received us with frank hospitality from 
political sympathy, and those of opposite principles gave us a 
friendly welcome, merely from habit ; for in that country it 
would be considered a crime to behave otherwise towards 
strangers." 



CHAPTER XI 

BRITISH PRISON SHIPS THE ILLICIT TRADE ON LONG 

ISLAND SOUND WHALEBOAT WARFARE. 

The Prison ships were intended for sailors taken on the 
high seas, while the landsmen were generally confined in 
churches and jails. The transports that brought the soldiers 
of Britain to Staten Island in 1776 were the first prison- 
ships. On board these, as they lay in Gravesend Bay, the 
American prisoners taken at the battle of Long Island were 
kept for a few weeks, till the British were in possession of 
New York. They were then removed thither, and the vessels 
were anchored in the North and East Rivers. In a year or 
two the prison ships were mostly moored a few rods from the- 
Long Island shore, in a retired nook called the Wallebocht. 
Here, sheltered from wind and wave, lay in succession a dozen 
old hulks, usually two or three at a time — such as the Whit- 
by, Good Hope, Falmouth, &c. Two were burned by the pri- 
soners themselves, either in the extremity of despair, or the 
vain hope of liberty. In 1780 the Jersey was stationed in 
the Wallebocht. The large numbers confined in her, the 
great mortality among them, and the length of time she was 
used as a prison ship, h&ve given such notoriety to her inglo- 



CHAPTER XI. 117 

rious name, that in popular story she seems to have been the 
only prison ship during the whole war ; while the accumulated 
horrors and miseries of all the others have been laid on the 
ill-fated Jersey alone. The number that perished was doubt- 
less fearfully great, and needed no exaggeration. 

It would be impossible to convey an idea of the sufferings of 
the prisoners, whether occasioned by sickness, neglect of 
cleanliness, or the want of wholesome food and comfortable 
clothing. Although hospital ships were provided to which the 
sick were removed, yet from the malignity of disease, des- 
pondency, or the want of good nursing and proper medical 
attendance, they perished by scores It does not appear that 
there was any systematic plan of charity formed by the people of 
New York for their relief. No female ever visited those pes- 
tilential hulks to administer aid, or bestow encouragement or 
sympathy. All was solitary, sullen gloom, varied only by 
the taunts and imprecations of their unfeeling guards. 

Duiing the whole war there was more or less difficulty in 
exchanging prisoners, each party fearing the other would get 
some advantage. The captives, meanwhile, suffered, lan- 
guished and died. The long detention of prisoners must be 
in part attributed to Congress, who were unwilling to release 
healthy British soldiers for emaciated Americans, mostly, too, 
privateersmen, and not engaged in the Continental service ; 
for this would give the enemy permanent strength without an 
equivalent. Often, too, the balance was against the Ameri- 
cans ; they had no prisoners to give in exchange ; for although 
their privateers captured numbers of British vessels, yet their 



118 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

crews often enlisted in the American vessels, or were suffered 
to go at large. 

The Jersey was originally a sixty-gun ship ; but becoming 
unfit for sea service, she was dismantled in 1776, and lay as a 
store ship at New York. In 1780, when the Good Hope was 
burned, she was removed to the Wallebocht and used as a 
prison ship till the close of the war. She was then suffered to 
go to decay ; worms destroyed her bottom, and she sank. 
Her ribs lay exposed at low water for more than twenty years, 
and are now covered by the United States Navy Yard. 

The crew of this vessel consisted of a captain, two mates, 
a steward, cook, and a dozen sailors. There was also a guard 
of about twelve old invalid marines, and about thirty soldiers. 
Near her lay three hospital ships — the Scorpion, Strombolo 
and Hunter. When a prisoner was first brought on deck, his 
name and rank were registered, and he was searched for money 
and weapons, but allowed to retain his clothes and bedding. 
He was then ordered down into the hold, where he found 
perhaps a thousand human beings, generally covered with 
rags and filth, their faces pale with disease and emaciated 
with hunger and anxiety. He joined a " mess" of six per- 
sons, who every morning, at the ringing of the steward's bell, 
received their allowance of biscuit, peas, and beef, or pork, 
which was cooked in a large copper boiler. Oatmeal, flour, 
butter, and suet were occasionally added, but no vegetables. 
The food was usually deficient in quantity and quality ; the 
biscuit mouldy and crawling with worms ; the peas damaged, 
the butter rancid, the meal and flour often sour, the pork and 
beef unsavory ; yet the highest prices were charged to the 



CHAPTER XI. 119 

King by the rapacious commissaries, who exchanged good for 
bad provisions, and by curtailing the rations, and other em- 
bezzlements, amassed large fortunes, at the expense of tho 
health and life of the helpless captives. 

Those who contrived to conceal a little money were enabled 
to procure, at exorbitant prices, such small articles as bread, 
sugar, tobacco, thread, needles, combs, &c., sold by an old 
woman, who daily approached the ship in her little boat. 
Every morning the prisoners brought up their bedding to be 
aired, washed the floors, and' spent the day on deck. At sun- 
set the cry was, "Down, rebels, down !" the hatches were 
fastened, and the prisoners lay down in rows to sleep, if sleep 
they could, amid the mingled horror of sighs and groans, of 
putrid air and stifling heat. 

When a prisoner died, his companions sewed up the body 
in a blanket, (if he had one,) lowered it into a boat, and were 
allowed to go on shore under a guard. There they made a 
slight excavation in the bank, or on the shore, in which the 
body was hastily buried. Many of these bodies wore after- 
wards uncovered by the action of wind or wave, and tho bones 
lay for years whitening in the sun. In 1808, nearly twenty 
hogsheads were collected and deposited in one common se- 
pulchre. 

The prisoners were at first allowed the free use of the deck, 
till a successful attempt at escape, after which they were 
generally kept below, only a few being allowed to come up at 
a time for fresh air and exercise. They were under the 
watch of a guard who constantly paced the deck, yet escapes 
were not unfrequent. One evening, in 1777, a boat happeu'^d 



120 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

to be fastened to the vessePs siJe. Three or four prisoners 
quietly let themselves down into her, cast her oflf, and let her 
drift astern of the ship. They were lucky enough to get 
clear unperceived, and to reach the Jersey shore in safety. 
Thcii flight was soon discovered, but the darkness rendered 
pursuit unavailing. 

There -vere several other instances of the kind. In 1779, 
at midnight, nine sea captains and two privates escaped from 
the Good Hope in the North River. They confined the mate, 
disarmed the sentinels, and hoisted out the boat, which was on 
deck. They had scarcely got clear when the alarm was given, 
and they were fired on by three ships, but not hurt. In the 
cold winter of 1780 fifteen prisoners escaped on the ice in the 
East River. Others made the attempt, but being unable to 
endure the cold were retaken and carried back. One was 
frozen to death before he reached the shore. A prisoner on 
board the Falmouth, having as if by accident thrown his hat 
overboard, begged leave to go after it in a small boat which 
lay alongside. A sentinel with only his side-arms on got into 
the boat with four of the prisoners. Having reached the hat, 
they secured the sentinel, and made for the Jersey shore, 
which they gained, though pursued by several armed boats, 
and fired at from the shipping. 

The prisoners in the Jersey, it is said, had obtained a crow- 
bar, which was kept concealed in the berth of a trusty officer, 
and used to break ofi" port gratings in stormy nights. A 
number who were good swimmers thus escaped. The 'Rev. 
Thomas Andros, of Berkley, Mass., when a young man, en- 
listed on board an American privateer, but was soon after 



CHAPTER XI. 121 

captured and incarcerated in the Jersey. Hence he made 
his escape by obtaining leave to go on shore for water, and 
straying; away from his guard. In his wanderings to the east 
end of Long Island, he gratefully acknowledges the protection 
he received. " 1 came," he says in his Journal, " to a re- 
spectable dwelling-house and entered it. Among the inmates 
were a decent woman and a tailor. To the woman I express- 
ed my want of something to nourish my feeble frame, telling 
her if she would give me a morsel, it would be a mere act of 
charity. She made no objection, asked no questions, but 
promptly furnished me with the dish of light food I desired 
-Expressing my obligations to her, I rose to depart. But 
going round through another room, she met me in the front en- 
try, placed a hat on my head, put an apple pie in my hand, and 
said, ' You will want this before you get through the woods.' 
She would not stay to hear my thanks, and I supposed she 
was satisfied that I had escaped from prison, and if she grant- 
ed me any succor, knowing this, it might cost her family the 
confiscation of their estate. She did not therefore wish to ask 
any questions, or hear me explain who I was, in the hearing of 
the tailor, who might tui-n informer. 

" Some time after, in Suffolk County, being repulsed from 
one dwelling, I entered another, and informed the mistress 
of the house of my wants. By the cheerfulness and good 
nature depicted in her countenance and first movements, I 
knew my suit was granted, and I had nothing more to say 
than to apprise her I was penniless. In a few moments she 
placed on the table a bowl of bread and milk, a dried blue 
6 ^ 



122 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

fish roasted, and a mug of cider — and bade me sit down and 
eat. It was now growing dark, so I went but a short distance 
further, entered a house and begged the privilege of lodging 
by the fire. There was no one in the house but the man and 
his wife. Before it became late in the evening the man took 
his Bible and read a chapter. He then arose and offered up 
his grateful acknowledgments and supplications to God 
through tbe Mediator. I now began to think I had got into 
a safe and hospitable retreat. They had before made many 
inquiries such as indicated that they felt tenderly and took an 
interest in my welfare. I confessed my situation to them. 
All was silence. It took some time to recover themselves 
from a flood of tears. At last the kind woman said, ' Let us 
go and bake his clothes.' No sooner said than the man 
seized a brand of fire and threw it into the oven. The woman 
provided a clean suit of clothes to supply the place of mine 
till they had purified them by fire.- The work done, a clean 
bed was laid down on which I was to rest, and rest I did as in 
a new world, for I had got rid of a swarm of cannibals that 
were eating me up alive ! In the morning I took my leave 
of this dear family, with a gratitude that for fifty years has 
suffered no abatement. In a week after I reached Sag Har- 
bor, where I found others of my fellow prisoners who had also 
escaped, and were waiting for an opportunity to cross the 
Sound undiscovered by British guard-boats. We happily 
succeeded, and reached home in October, 1781."* 

* For a detailed account of the sufferings of American prisoners, the 
reader is referred to the History of the British prisons and prison-ships 
it New York, in "" Revokitionary Incidents of Long Island," by Henry 



CHAPTER XI. 123 

The escape of seven prisoners in ^larch, 1781, from a 
prison-ship at Charleston, furnishes another illustration. The 
boat was sent some distance up Cooper River for fresh water, 
two British soldiers acting as a guard. The prisoners rose on 
the guard, disarmed them, and effected their escape. After 
encountering many difficulties, they reached a plantation be- 
longing to Col. Pinckney, and were received with the most 
cordial hospitality by Mrs. Pinckney, who, though alone — her 
husband not daring to venture home — and plundered of every- 
thing by the royalists, so that she depended on her negroes 
for daily supplies, was ready to share what she had with them. 
From this place they made their way to the residence of Mrs. 
Motte, who gave them lodging in an outhouse, where they 
were hid during the day, for it was thought unsafe to let the 
blacks on the premises know of their presence. She sent them 
provisions every day, and often paid them visits, accompanied 
by a young lady whose residence was on the north side of the 
Congaree Piver, and who was on a visit to her house. " These 
ladies," said one of the prisoners, "were elegant and polished 
in their manners ; we were ragged, dirty, rough-looking fel- 
lows ; yet, notwithstanding our forlorn condition, they treated 
us as equals, spoke to us kindly, and made us feel that we had 
not served our country in vain." 

The young lady at length proposed to assist the men in 
getting across the river. She told them she and Mr*?. Motte 
had decided that she was to go home the next day, anc' make 

Onderdonk, Jr., Esq, The same work gives a full account of th# ad- 
ventures of the whaleboatmen. 



124 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

arrangements to send some of her negroes to the river side on 
the following night with canoes to convey them across. Ac- 
cordingly, on the appointed night Mrs. Motte's trusty house 
servant came and conducted them to the landing. Several 
blacks were there with canoes ; they were taken over the 
river, and led up to the overseer's house, where a table was 
set out, covered with abundance of provisions. Bedclothing 
was also furnished, so clean and fresh, that the hardy travel- 
lers would not soil the snow-white sheets and quilts by sleep- 
ing in them, but stretched themselves before the fire In the 
morning, before they had all risen, breakfast was on the table, 
and they were invited to take for the journey as much as they 
could conveniently carry. In two days more they were safely 
sheltered in the upper country. 

The associations that had existed for many years against 
the use of foreign goods, and in favor of wearing homespun, 
instead of foreign silks and calicoes, had so discouraged their 
importation that the Revolution found the country almost des- 
titute of all articles of dress and luxury. But after the line 
of separation had been drawn between Britain and her colo- 
nies, there existed no longer the same reasons of patriotism 
for abstaining, and people felt disposed to indulge their taste 
and vanity in the use of articles so long prohibited. Tea 
from China was found to be more fragrant than that prepared 
from sage and sassafras. Silks, calicoes, gauzes, and ribbons 
resumed their former place in woman's estimation, and the 
portraits and satires of the day show that her affections were 
as much set on dress as before or since. 

Those within the British lines had no difficulty in procuring 



CHAPTER XT. 125 

imported articles in exchange for the products of the soil, 
which were in unprecedented demand for the armies quartered 
by the King in our country. "With those outside the lines the 
case was different. An occasional prize taken by some New 
England privateer might enliven some seaport for a day or 
two by the display of foreign tinsel and finery, but the supply 
was totally inadequate. Although it was the policy of the 
contending parties to prohibit any and all intercourse with 
their enemies, yet the calculating avarice of the trader over- 
came the dictates of patriotism. Accordingly, a new line of 
business sprung up, called the Illicit Trade, which prevailed 
extensively on Long Island Sound during the whole war. 

Every device which the cunning of smugglers could con- 
ceive, was resorted to. Goods were bought in the city of 
New York, ostensibly for the purpose of retailing to the 
King's subjects on Long Island. These were carted to some 
solitary harbor on the Sound, and secretly put on board small 
vessels that lay there concealed. With the same secresy these 
goods were " run" into Connecticut, and being quietly dis- 
posed of to petty dealers, found a ready sale at large profits. 
The vigilance of keen-eyed smugglers was too active for the 
drowsy watch of government officials, who also too often con- 
nived at what they could not prevent, and shared in the pro- 
fits. In 1783 a patriotic Connecticut mob seized a boat be- 
longing to an American officer, who had engaged in the illicit 
trade, dragged it to the public market place, and burnt it in 
sight of a large concourse of spectators, who closed the bon- 
fire with three hearty cheers. 

In the Revolutionary war the American navy was merely 



126 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

\ 

nominal. Its place was partially supplied by privateers and 
whaleboats. New York city, and Staten and Long Islands 
being in the enemy's possession, the partisan warfare carried 
on by American whaleboats against the King's subjects resid- 
ing there, forms an episode in our history. 

These boats were a sharp-built craft, twenty or thirty feet 
long, and without decks, impelled by from four to thirty-two 
oars. Being light, they could be borne on the shoulders and 
concealed in bushes along the shore. In a calm they would 
shoot out from their lurking places on the Jersey or Connec- 
ticut shore, intercept a coasting vessel, and by the velocity of 
their oars elude the pursuit of British guard-ships. They 
were commissioned by the States to cruize against British 
vessels, and were limited to high water mark ; but this line 
on various pretexts was overpassed. 

A party of " rebels" was often accustomed to cross by 
night from the main to Long Island, transport their light 
boats to some neighboring thicket, march inland, plunder a 
store, surprise a British outpost, or seize some distinguished 
loyalist; then hasten back to their boats ere the day dawned, 
or the alarm could be spread. Sometimes the British retali- 
ated ; as when thsy surprised and burned all the whaleboats in 
the Raritan, or carried off Gen. Silliman and other prominent 
whigs. One Sunday they made prisoners of a whole congrega- 
tion of worshippers at Darien, leading forty men, with the 
pastor, into captivity. Those national and very important 
expeditions from Connecticut to Setauket, Lloyd's Neck, Sag 
Harbor, Fort St. George and Slongo — all on Long Island, 
v^ere accomplished by means of whalaboats. But in time 



CHAPTER XI. 127 

their crews became freebooters, who plundered public and 
private property, without distinction of friend or foe, till whig 
and tory made common cause against them. Several bloody 
encounters thus ensued. After this, the system was abandon- 
ed by the States, though pursued by a few daring outlaws till 
the close of the war. After the war it was ascertained that 
some of these illicit traders had been spies in the secret ser- 
vice of General Washington, who often boasted that he had 
better intelligence of the enemy's movements on Long Island 
than at any other place. 

The frauds and robberies growing out of this system were 
numerous, as might be expected. Sometimes the owner of a 
well-filled store on the Island would arrange with some 
friendly whaleboatman from the main to cross the Sound by 
night, march inland, and carry off his goods, which were then 
transported and sold in Connecticut for their mutual benefit 
To save appearances, reports were spread next day of an ex- 
tensive robbery by rebel whaleboats, the goods were described 
and rewards offered ! Even the State of New York, in want 
of clothing for her soldiers, was forced to stoop from her dig- 
nity so far as to purchase British cloth procured in a clandes- 
tine way by means of her secret agents. The State of Con- 
necticut, too, connived for a time at this illicit traffic, till the 
abuses that grew out of it became too wide-spread for longer 
toleration, and the permission was revoked in November, 1781. 

The British, also, allowed this trade when it suited their 
interest. In 1778, when they were in want of provisions for 
carrying on the war, G-ov. Tryon proposed through the Kev. 
Mr. Buell, to give rum, sugar, tea, and whatever might please 



128 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the ladies, in exchange for American beef. It is certain that 
the constant want of cattle and farming produce for the Bri- 
tish army, and of silks and India goods for the people of New 
England, kept up a very active illicit trade during the whole 
war. 

Ever and anon the British commandant at New York, the 
great entrepot for foreign goods, issued his proclamations, and 
did all in his power to restrict this trade. No countryman 
was allowed to buy and carry out of the city any articles, 
unlass he! was known to be a loyal subject. Even then, the 
quantity of every article purchased must be distinctly speci- 
fied in his permit, which was examined by a guard as he left 
the city. Stories are told of country girls who went shopping 
in New York, and being tempted to buy some finery not pre- 
viously enumerated in their permit, were forced to leave it at 
the ferry, a prize to the wife or sweetheart of the ungallant 
guard. 

All prohibited goods, when seized, were confiscated, and 
part given to the informer as an encouragement to watchful- 
ness. But here, too, there was collusion. The owner of a 
boat laden with European and India goods would set out from 
the Long Island shore and allow himself to be captured by 
gome seemingly vigilant American cruiser. The goods were 
then taken to New England, condemned in a court of Admi- 
ralty, sold at exorbitant prices, and the profits divided be- 
tween the partners in this nefarious traffic. In this way British 
merchandise became so abundant, that in 1783 there were 
auction sales at Norwich, Connecticut, " twice a week, of a 
variety of European and othei goods by piece or pattern." 




Sf>EOIMENS OF CONTINKNTAL BILLS. 



Page 129, 



CHAPTER XTT. 

THE FRENCH ALLIANCE THE MISCHIANZA BATTLE OF 

MONMOUTH CONDITION OF THE COUNTRY. 

The British ministry had expected that the war would soon 
be terminated by the conquest of the rebellious colonies. But 
the news of Burgoyne's defeat lowered their hopes, and dis- 
posed them to more conciliatory measures. Commissioners 
were sent to America to propose an amicable adjustment of 
difficulties. It was too late, however, to offer full redress of 
the grievances formerly complained of. Congress refused even 
to negotiate till the national independence should be acknow- 
ledged. The gloom that had brooded over the country was 
now turned into joy by the news that a treaty of alliance had 
been concluded with France, that power recognizing the inde- 
pendence of the United States. The daughter of Lord Stir- 
ling writes from Valley Foi-ge to a friend — " We have nothing 
here but rejoicings ; every one looks happy, and seems proud 
of the share he has had in establishing the name of America 
as a nation." The event was publicly celebrated in various 
parts of the country. 

This treaty, which was ratified by Congress May 4th, 1778, 
secured the aid of France to the United States, and was of 



J 30 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

course equivalent to a declaration of war on her part against 
Great Britain. Preparations were made by those two nations 
for the impending contest. It was determined in England 
immediately to evacuate Philadelphia, and concentrate the 
royal forces in the city and harbor of New York. 

The officers of Sir William Howe, in Philadelphia, gave 
him a splendid entertainment as a parting compliment, just 
before his relinquishment of the command to Sir Henry Clin- 
ton, and his departure for England. This singular fite was 
called the Mischianza — an Italian word signifying a medley or 
mixture, applied to a series of entertainments. It was given 
on the 18th of May. The following description of it is 
abridged from one said to have been written by Maj. Andre : 

It commenced with a grand regatta in three divisions. In 
the first was the Ferret galley, on board of which there were 
several general officers and ladies. In the centre, the Hussar 
galley bore Sir William and Lord Howe, Sir Henry Clinton, 
their suite, and many ladies. The Cornwallis galley brought 
up the rear — Gren. Knyphhausen and suite, three British gen- 
erals, and ladies being on board. On each quarter of these 
galleys, and forming their division, were five flat boats lined 
with green cloth, and filled with ladies and gentlemen. In 
front were three flat boats, with bands of music. Six barges 
rowed about each flank, to keep off the swarm of boats in the 
river. The galleys were dressed in colors and streamers ; the 
ships lying at anchor were magnificently decorated ; and the 
transport ships with colors flying, which extended in a line 
the whole length of the city, were crowded, as well as the 
wharves, with spectators. The rendezvous was at Knight's 



CHAPTER XI. 131 

vvharf, at the northern extremity of the city. The company 
embarked at half-past four, the three divisions moving slowly 
down to the music. Arrived opposite Market wharf, at a 
signal all rested on their oars, and the music played " God 
save the King," answered by three cheers from the vessels. 

The landing was at the Old Fort, a little south of the 
town, and in front of the building prepared for the company, 
a few hundred yards from the water. The regatta was 
gazed at from the wharves and warehouses by the unin- 
vited population of the city. When the general's barge push- 
ed for shore, a salute of seventeen guns was fired from his 
Majesty's ship Roebuck ; and after an interval, seventeen 
from the Vigilant. The procession advanced through an ave- 
nue formed by two files of grenadiers, each supported by a 
line of light horse. The avenue led to a spacious lawn, lined 
with troops, and prepared for the exhibition of a tilt and tour- 
nament. The music, and managers with favors of white and 
blue ribbons in their breasts, led the way, followed by the 
generals and the rest of the company. 

In front, the building bounded the view through a vista 
formed by two triumphal arches in a line with the landing 
place. Two pavilions, with rows of benches rising one above 
another, received the ladies, while the gentlemen ranged them- 
selves on each side. On the front seat of each pavilion were 
seven young ladies as princesses, with Turkish habits, and 
wearing in their turbans the favors meant for the knights who 
contended. The sound of trumpets was heard in the dis- 
tance ; and a band of knights in ancient habits of white and 
red silk, mounted on gray horses caparisoned in the same 



132 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION 

colors, attendf^d bj squires on foot, herald and trumpeters, 
entered the lists. Lord Cathcart was chief of these knights, 
and appeared in honor of Miss Auchmutj. One of his es- 
quires bore his lance, and another his shield ; and two black 
slaves in blue and white silk, with silver clasps on their bare 
necks and arms, held his stirrups. The band made the cir- 
cuit of the square, saluting the ladies, and then ranged them- 
selves in a line with the pavilion in which were the ladies of 
their device. Their herald, after a flourish of trumpets, pro- 
claimed a challenge ; asserting the superiority of the ladies of 
the Blended Rose, in wit, beauty and accomplishment, and 
offering to prove it by deeds, according to the ancient laws of 
chivalry. 

At the third repetition of the challenge, another herald and 
trumpeters advanced from the other side of the square, dress- 
ed in black and orange, and proclaimed defiance to the chal- 
lengers, in the name of the knights of the Burning Mouutaiu. 
Capt. Watson, the. chief, appeared in honor of Miss Franks : 
his device — a heart with a wreath of flowers ; his motto — 
Love and Glory. This band also rode round the lists, and 
drew up in front of the White Knights. The gauntlet was 
thrown down and lifted ; the encounter took place. After the 
fourth encounter, the two chiefs, spurring to the centre, fought 
&ingly, till the marshal of the field rushed between, and de- 
clared that the ladies of the Blended Rose and the Burning 
INIountain were satisfied with the proofs of love and valor 
already given, and commanded their knights to desist. The 
bands then filed off in diffjrent directions, saluting the ladies 
as they approached the pavilions. 



CHAPTER XI. 133 

The company then passed in procession tlirongli triumphal 
arches built in the Tuscan order, to a garden in front of the 
building; and thence ascended to a spacious hall, painted in 
imitation of Sienna marble. In this hall and apartment ad- 
joining, were tea and refreshments ; and the knights, kneeling, 
received their f^ivors from the ladies. On entering the room 
appropriated for the faro table, a cornucopia was seen filled 
with fruit and flowers ; another appeared in going out, shrunk, 
reversed and empty. The next advance was to a ball-room 
painted in pale blue, pannelled with gold, with dropping fes- 
toons of flowers ; the surbase pink, with drapery festooned in 
blue. Eighty-five mirrors, decked with flowers and ribbons 
reflected the light from thirty four branches of wax lights. 
On the same floor were four drawing rooms with sideboards 
of refreshments, also decorated and lighted up. The dan- 
cing continued till ten ; the windows were then throwqa open, 
and the fireworks commenced with a magnificent bouquet of 
rockets. 

At twelve, large folding doors, which had hitherto been 
concealed, were suddenly thrown open, discovering a splendid 
and spacious saloon, richly painted and brilliantly illuminated ; 
the mirrors and branches decorated, as also the supper table, 
which was set out, according to Major Andre's account, with 
four hundred and thirty covers, and twelve hundred dishes. 
When supper was ended, the herald and trumpeters of the 
Blended Rose entered the saloon, and proclaimed the health 
of the king and royal family — followed by that of the knights 
.tnd ladies ; each toast being accompanied by a flourish of 



134 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION 

music. The company then returned to the hall-room, and 
the dancing continued till four o'clock. 

This was the most splendid entertainment ever given by 
officers to their general. The next day the mirrors and lus- 
tres borrowed from the citizens were sent home, with their 
ornaments. The pageant of a night was over ; Sir William 
Howe departed. The folly and extravagance displayed were 
apparent not only to the foes of Britain ; it did not escape 
satire in England as well as America. It is interesting to 
contrast the situation of the two hostile armies at this time, 
and to follow the destiny of the revellers. In one month 
knights and army marched from the city they had occupied. 
Gen. Wayne writes, on the 12th of Jaly : " Tell those Phi- 
ladelphia ladies who attended Howe's assemblies and levees, 
that the heavenly, sweet, pretty redcoats — the accomplished 
gentlemen of the guards and grenadiers, have been humbled 
on the plains of Monmouth. The knights of the Blended 
Roses, and of the Burning Mount, have resigned their laurels 
to rebel officers, who will lay them at the feet of those Y'lvtiious 
daughters of America who cheerfully gave up ease and afHu- 
ence in a city, for liberty and peace of mind in a cottage." 

But the empire of beauty was not to be overthrown by 
political changes. The belles who had graced the fete found 
the reproach cast on them by indignant patriots speedily for- 
gotten. When the Americans, on their return to the capital, 
gave a ball to their own and the French officers, and it was 
debated whether the ladies of the Mischianza should be honor- 
ed with invitations, the question was soon decided by the re- 



CHAPTER XII. 132 

flection that it would be impossible to make up an agreeable 
company without them. 

One of the commissioners sent under parliamentary author- 
ity to settle the differences between Great Britain and Ame- 
rica — Gov. Johnstone, — -employed Mrs. Ferguson, a most 
accomplished lady, whose husband was in the British service, 
to confer with Gen. Reed on the subject. He requested her 
to inform Gen. Reed, that if he would exert his influence to 
settle the dispute, " he might command ten thousand guineas 
and the best post in the government." Mrs. Ferguson was 
desirous of seeing an end put to the horrors of civil war, and 
when the British left the city, sent for Gen. Reed, and re- 
peated the proposition to him. His reply has become cele- 
brated : " I am not worth purchasing ; but such as I am, the 
Kino; of Great Britain is not rich enouniih to do it." Cong^ress 
was indignant at this attempt at private bribery, and declared 
it incompatible with their honor to hold any communication 
with Johnstone. 

The troops of General Washington followed the Biitish 
army as it retreated towards New York, and the battle of 
Monmouth took pla^e on the 2Sth of June. The Ameri- 
cans had the advantage- Gen. Clinton drew off his troops 
at night and proceeded rapidly. In this action Gen Lee's 
inadvertence endangered th^ American army; he was re- 
buked by Washington, and replied with disrespect. A court- 
martial su.spended him from his command, whicli he never 
resuir ed. . 

Ai this time, and throughout the war, the country, even at 
a di^ ,ance from the seat of actual warfare, was continually 



136 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION". 

disturbed by bands of lawless marauders, who made plunder- 
ing their vocation, and greatly distressed the defenceless in- 
habitants. During the two years following, the Cowboys 
infested the country between the hostile armies, their robbe- 
ries abounding chiefly between Peekskill and Kingsbridge. 
These lurking miscreants were called Cowboys, from their 
stealing cattle near the lines, which they drove to the British 
in New York. They were mostly refugees, friendly to the 
royal cause, and were encouraged by the British, who found 
their advantage in doing so, since the whigs near the lines 
often retaliated on the tories, and thus strife was kept up be- 
tween neighbors and acquaintances. 

The Skinners were another order of banditti, and, living 
within the American lines, pretended affection for the whig 
cause, though they often proved as perfidious as cruel. It 
was a common remark that those who professed allegiance to 
the State of New York were plundered by the Cowboys, 
while those who avowed loyalism were sure to have their pro- 
perty pillaged by the Skinners. It is said, too, that they 
often leagued for the exchange of their goods — the Skinners 
pretending to capture the other robbers, and selling for their 
mutual benefit the articles brought from New York. 

During the time that the British kept possession of New 
York, the adjacent country, with the whole of Staten and 
Long Island, was held under military rule. The leading whigs 
were driven away, or thrown into prison, their property in 
many cases being seized, and the defenceless families who re- 
mained were obliged to submit to depredation and insult. 
Sometimes female spirit rose successfully in opposition. The 



CHAPTER XII. 137 

house of Mrs. Jackson, who lived on Staten Island, while her 
husband was a prisoner in the Provost, was for a long time 
the abode of British officers and soldiers. On one occasion a 
Boldier, carrying through the house a tin pail, used for milk- 
ing, was asked by her what he meant to do with it. " My 
master wants to bathe his feet," was the insolent reply. 
" Carry it instantly back," said she, authoritatively ; " not 
for your master's master shall you touch what you have no 
business with !" By the exhibition of such spirit she saved 
herself much inconvenience. When the Americans were on 
the opposite shore, she was in the habit of sending them pro- 
visions from time to time. This she was obliged to do with 
the utmost secrecy ; and many a time would she set going the 
mill which belonged to her husband — to allow the black man 
she employed to cross the water unsuspected by the watchful 
enemy. At one time, having a calf which she was anxious 
to send, she kept it concealed all day under her bed, having 
muzzled it to prevent its cries. She sometimes came to New 
York, with friends, to visit prisoners in the Provost. They 
were received on such occasions at Whitehall by a gentleman 
who accompanied them to the prison, and directed them.^ 
when they wished to give money to the captives, to drop it 
silently as they went past, while he would walk just behind, 
so as to screen them from the observation of the Provost- 
marshal. 

Some British officers quartered themselves at the house of 
Mrs. Dissosway, at the west end of Staton Island. Her 
husband was a prisoner ; but her brother, Capt. Randolph, 
who was in the American army, gave much annoyance to the 



138 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

loyalists by his frequent incursions. A tory colonel once pro- 
mised her to procure the release of her husband, on condition 
of her prevailing upon her brother to stay quietly at home. 
" And if I could," she replied, with a look of scorn, and 
drawing up her tall figure, " think you that Greneral Wash- 
ington has but one Capt. Eandolph in his army .?" 

When the house of Hendrick Onderdonk, at Roslyn, was 
robbed by British soldiers, his wife resolutely went after them 
about the house, telling them not to enter such a room, as her 
daughter slept there. They picked up some rolls of fine goods 
and hurried away — Mrs. Onderdonk following and pulling away 
now and then a piece, till they were out of the house. — When 
a robber grasped the throat of Martin Schenck at Manhasset, 
to make him say where his treasures were hid, his wife caught 
up a bellows, and so belabored the soldier that he let go his 
hold and her husband escaped. When a foraging ofiicer at 
Cedar Swamp demanded of the wife of Jotham Townsend the 
keys of her corn-crib, and on her refusal drew his sword, she 
flourished an oven-peel — for she was preparing to bake bread 
— at the representative of the Crown, and asked, scornfully, 
" if he drew his sword upon women .^" The disconcerted 
officer smiled, and was soon out of sight. 

When the house of John Burtis, in Manhasset Valley, was 
attacked by a gang of whalcboatmen, his wife measured out 
and handed the charges of powder to those that fired, and the 
party was driven off. — Sarah Amberman, daughter of a miller 
at Foster's meadow, when her father was brutally attacked by 
two drunken British officers, in 1780, endeavored to defend 



CHAPTER XII. 139 

him at the risk of her life, while men who witnessed the cra- 
elty dared offer no assistance. 

These few instances are but fragments of a vast store of 
experience ; but from them we may form some idea of the 
condition of the whole country in those days of bloody peril, 
when households were broken up by war in its worst form — 
the conflict of brothers in arms against each other. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

INDIAN DEPREDATIONS THE MASSACRES AT WYOMING AND 

CHERRY VALLEY. 

For a long time before the Revolution, the people in 
various parts of the country had been harassed by Indian de- 
predations. During the war many of the savage tribes were 
incited and employed against the Americans by the policy of 
Great Britain. The history of this warfare, and of the suffer- 
ings of the inhabitants in these hostile incursions, by far too 
extensive for a single volume, may be found in different works 
devoted exclusively to the subject. It forms but a repetition 
of the same story of barbarities and massacres, of burning 
and devastation, of captivity and torture. In some sections, 
the men at work in the field were obliged to have riflemen 
stationed near to guard them. Some romantic incidents are 
related of the attacks on the Scoharie forts. The commander 
of one ordered tha women and children who had taken refuge 
there, to go into the cellar. One woman refused to go ; but 
took a spear, and stood at the pickets to assist in the defence. 
At another fort, a number of women stood ready at the 
pickets, armed with spears, pitchforks, poles, &c., to await the 
attack. 



CHAPTER XIII. 141 

Leaving such scenes and incidents, we will direct our at- 
tention to a tragedy, the record of which forms one of the 
darkest pages in history. In the summer of 177S, a consider- 
able force of tories and Indians, under the command of Col. 
John Butler and au Indian chief, appeared in the beautiful 
valley of "Wyoming on the Susquehannah. The valley had 
been drained of its strength to supply the continental army. 
The band of four hundred fighting men, who marched out to 
meet the enemy on the 3d of July, were totally defeated, but 
a few surviving the battle. The forts were then taken, the 
inhabitants massacred, and the settlements ravaged with fire 
and sword. A nearta' view of the picture may be given by 
the mention of one or two sufferers. 

On the night of the 3d of July, a Mrs. Gould, with the 
women who still remained in Wyoming, sought refuge in the 
fort. Her brother-in-law, one of the brave men who survived 
the massacre, was with her family, but many of the terrified 
inhabitants had already fled. It was quite dark when they 
entered the fort, and so great were the terror and confusion, 
that it was not perceived till they went in that a boy four 
years old, one of Mrs. Gould's children, was missing ! The 
effect on the mother of this fearful discovery may be more 
readily imagined than described. Disregarding all remon- 
strances and entreaties not to expose hersslf to deadly peril, 
she set out immediately, alone and in the darkness, to search 
for the missing child. For more than an hour she wandered, 
seeking him in every spot where it was likely he could have 
strayed ; taking her way across the plain strewed with the 
dead and dying of the recent battle — where the savages, eager 



142 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

for blood, were still lurking — fearing only for her child, lest he 
might be lost in the riverj or might have fallen into the hands 
of the merciless red-men I At last the little truant was found 
playing with some other children on the banks of the river 
The young mother clasped to her bosom her recovered trea- 
sure, and hurried back with him to the place of partial safety. 
The night, measured through its hours by so many mourners, 
at length passed. In the morning all within the fort was a 
scene of confusion. Not a moment was to be lost, for all 
knew too well the mercy they must expect from their foes 
when they should fall into their power, and that their only 
hope lay in immediate flight. Preparations for this were going 
forward on all sides. Mrs. Goul-d's brother-in-law assisted 
her in the few and hurried arrangements she made for depar- 
ture. A fine horse belonging to her husband was laden with 
a bed, on which she was placed with her four children, the 
youngest an infant. 

The writer of " The Hazleton Travellers" says, describing 
the flight after the massacre — " What a picture for the pen- 
cil ! Every pathway through the wilderness thronged with 
women and children, old men and boys. The able men of 
middle life and activity were either away in the general ser- 
vice, or had fallen ; and in one drove of fugitives, consisting 
of a hundred persons, there was only one man. Let the 
painter stand on some eminence, commanding a view at once 
of the valley and the mountain. Let him paint the throng 
climbing the heights ; hurrying on, filled with terror, despair, 
and sorrow. Take a single group ; the aiTrighted mother, 
whose husband has fallen, an infant on her boscm, a child by 



CHAPTER xiir. 143 

tlie hand ; an aged parent slowly climbing the rugi^cd way 
behind her ; hunger presses them sorely ; in the rustling of 
ev.My loaf they hear the approaching savage ; the valley, all 
in flames, behind them ; their cottages, their barns, their har- 
vests, all swept in the flood of ruin." 

In this pilgrimage over the rugged wilderness of the moun- 
tains, where the sick and wounded, the young and the aged, 
took their weary way, Mrs. Grould was moved beyond endur- 
ance by the sights of weakness and misery every where sur- 
rounding her. With the prospect of a long and perilous 
journey before her, she dismounted, took down the children, 
and with the youngest in her arms, pursued her way on foot, 
leaving the horse she had rode for the use of those fugitives 
who, from sickness or old age, W3re unable to accomplish a 
journey of any length on foot, or even to make good their 
escape. With a heart filled with forebodings of evil, she 
turned her face towards the rising sun, and with her young 
children resumed the toilsome march seventy miles in length ; 
sleeping at night under the canopy of heaven, subsisting on 
fruits of the forest and the handful of spoiled meal wliich was 
all she had been able to secure in the way of provision for the 
journey. But her unfaltering trust was fixed on Tlim who 
feedeth the young ravens when they cry. Sustained and 
guided by His protecting care, they at length reached the 
Delaware in safety. 

One young man who escaped after the battle,, plunged 
into the water for safety, and swam to a small island. Here, 
immersed in water, protected by the bushes at the water's 
evlge, and screened by the darkness of night, he happily 



144 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

eluded the search of the pursuing foe, thirsting for blood ^ 
while about twenty of his companions, who had retreated to 
the same spot, were all massacred within a few yards of him. 
He heard the dismal strokes of the tomahawk, and the groans 
of the dying, expecting every moment himself to become the 
next victim. One savage foot trod upon the very bush to 
which he clung. A solitary individual besides himself was 
left, at the departure of the savages, to weep with him over 
the mangled bodies of their friends. 

One among the company of women who fled amid the hor- 
rors of the conflagration, with her six children, the youngest 
but five years of age, hastened to the water-side, where boats 
were prepared for their conveyance down the river. The lit- 
tle ones, half destitute of clothing, were ready to cry with 
the anguish of their bruised and lacerated feet ; but the chid- 
ings of the mother, and the dread of being heard by the lurk- 
ing savage, repressed their weeping. The widow's thoughts 
were turned towards the land of her birth, formidable as the 
journey was on foot, without money, clothes, or provisions 
Her way lay in part through Dutch settlements, where she 
could only by signs tell the story of her suflferings, or make 
known her wants. The tale of woe, however, swifter in its 
flight, had spread far and wide, and she received many kind- 
nesses from the people of a strange language. Sometimes, 
indeed, she was refused admission into their houses ; " but," 
she would add in her narration, " they had nice barns, with 
clean straw, where my children lodged very comfortably." 
After travelling one hundred miles by water, and nearly three 



CHAPTER XII. 145 

hundred by land, she arrived in safety at the place of her 
former residence in Connecticut. 

Another, who had lost five brothers in the battle, made her 
escape with six others in a canoe, on hearing of the issue of 
the conflict and of the enemy^s approach — and pushed off 
into the river, without provisions, to seek safety from the 
murderous tomahawk. Meeting a boat coming up with stores 
for Capt. Spalding's company, the suffarings of hun'i;ei' wn-e 
relieved ; and the distressed fugitives, not knowing the fita of 
their friends, after a dangerous navigation of one hundre 1 and 
twenty miles, landed nsar Harrisburg, where b^in-^ hospitably 
received and kindly treated, th^y remained till Gen. Sallivan's 
army came to Wyoming and rendared it safe to return. 

The suiferino-s of numberless families in the frontier settle- 

o 

ments were hardly exceeded even by those of Wyoming. In 
Wavasink the woinen bore tlrnr share in the eiforts made 
for defence — loading guns for thair defenders, and carrying 
water to extinguish th3 flames of th ur dwallings. In an 
attack upon the house of the widow Cavier, after it was fired, 
the two women sou^^ht refu'^e in tha callar, the daughter 
taking with her the Dutch family Bible. When the flames 
approached thein, thay dacidad to dalivar themsalvas up to 
tho savages, ani made th'air way through tha collar window — 
the mother in advance. The daughter threw bar apron over 
her head, fearing to see her parent killed. As she feared, 
the wi low fell a prey to the crual tomahawk, while the Bible 
was wrested from Magialan's hauls and stamp 3d in the mud, 
she herself being retained a prisoner. In another house — 
Bevier's — defended by its inmates, the powder was laid iu 

7 N 



146 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

basins on the table, and the women helped to load the pieces, 
till at length the old log house was fired at a point where they 
30uid not bring their guns to bear. Their situation now be- 
■2ame most alarming, and they applied every drop of liquid in 
the house to check the progress of the flames ; taking milk, 
and even swill, in their mouths, and spirting it through the 
cracks of the logs, in hopes thus to protract existence till re- 
lief might come. At this crisis, when death appeared inevi- 
table, the prayers of the pious mother seemed to be answered 
by direct interposition from Heaven. The brother of Bevier, 
warned of danger by the mute appeal of the dog belonging to 
the house, came with another to his assistance, and the In- 
dians and tories, not knowing, when they heard the firing of 
their sentry, how large a force was coming, withdrew from 
the house just as the flames had extended to the curtains of 
the bed. 

In October an American expedition was undertaken against 
the Indians on the upper branches of the Susquehanna. In 
November there was a repetition of savage barbarities at 
Cherry Valley ia New York. A part of the same force that 
had desolated Wyoming, invaded and utterly destroyed the 
settlement. The tragedy here enacted stands next in atrocity 
to the destruction of Wyoming. Some instances of individual 
suffering are recorded. One young girl was barbarously 
murdered by an Indian near a pile of wood, behind which 
she had endeavored to screen herself. Another woman fled 
with her children into the woods, where she lay concealed 
under a large log during a cold rainy day and night, hearing 
the yells of the savages as tlify triumphed in the work of 



CHAPTER xrii. 147 

death, and seeing tliem pass so near that one of them trailed 
his <xun on the lo2j that covered her. The father of Mrs. 
Campbell, who was in her house, attempted almost single- 
handed to oppose the enemy, and refused to yield till he was 
wounded and overpowered. The mother and her children 
were dragged away as prisoners, and the house was presently 
in flames. 

Leaving the settlement a scene of desolation, the enemy 
took their departure the same night, with their prisonrvs, of 
whom there were between thirty and forty. That night was 
passed in a valley about two miles south of the fort. " A 
large fire was kindled, around which they were collected, with 
no shelter to protect them from the storm. Around them at 
a short distance on every side, gleamed the watchfires of the 
savages, who were en^faijed in examinins; and distributinsr the 
plunder. Along up the valley thoy caught occasional glimpses 
of the ruins of their dwellings, as some sudden gust of wind, 
or falling timber, awoke into new life the decaying flame." 

Mrs. Campbell and her children were considered important 
captives, and while most of the other women and little ones 
were released, after the detention of a day or two, and per- 
mitted to return to their homes, she was informed that she 
and her children must accompany their captors to the land of 
the Senecas. On the second day after the captivity her 
mother was killed by her side. The aged and infirm matron 
was unable to keep pace with the rest ; her daughter was =;up- 
porting her faltering steps, and encouraging her to exert her 
utmost strength, when the savage struck her down with his 
tomahawk. Not a moment was the dnuirlit.^r sufl'-red to lin- 



148 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

ger, to close the djing eyes, or receive the last sigh of hel 
murdered parent ; the same Indian drove her on with his up- 
lifted and bloody weapon, threatening her with a similar fate 
should her speed slacken. She carried in her arm_s_a.n infant 
eighteen months old ; and for the sake of her helpless little 
ones, dragged on her weary steps in spite of failing strength, 
at the bidding of her inhuman tormentors. 

This long and melancholy journey was commenced on the 
11th of November. Mrs. Campbell was taken down the 
Talley of the Susquehanna to its junction with the Tioga, 
and thence into the western part of New York, to the Indian 
Castle, the capital of the Seneca nation, near the site of the 
present beautiful village of Geneva. The whole region was 
then an unbroken wilderness, with here and there an Indian 
settlement, and the journey was performed by Mrs. Campbell 
partly on foot, with her babe in her arms. Her other children 
were separated from her on the way, being given to Indians 
of different tribes ; and on her arrival at the village, her in- 
fant also was taken from her. The helpless babe clung to her 
when torn away by savage hands, and she could hear its piercing 
cries till they were lost in the distance. 

Long and dreary was the winter that followed. In 
one respect Mrs. Campbell was fortunate. She was placed 
in an Indian family, composed chiefly of females and began 
at once to make herself useful ; thus early securing the 
confilence and even the admiration of these daughters of 
the furest. She taught them some of the arts of civilizsd life, 
and B\ade garments not only for the familj' to which she be- 



CHAPTER XIII. 149 

longed, but for those in the ncigliborlioocl, wlio sent corn and 
venison in return. In acknowledguicnt of these services, she 
was allowed the command of her own time, and freedom from 
restraint, and was permitted to abstain from her usual labors 
on the sacred day of rest. 

The proposed exchange of Mrs. Campbell and her children 
for the wife and sons of Col. John Butler — the noted partisan 
leader — being agreed upon by Grov. Clinton and Gen. Schuy- 
ler, early in the spring Col. Campbell despatched an Indian 
messenger to Col. Butler at Fort Niagara. Butler came soon 
after to the village of Canadaseago, to confer with the Indian 
council on the subject of giving up their prisoners. The 
families who adopted captives in the place of deceased rela- 
tives were always unwilling to part with them ; and Butler 
had some difficulty in obtaining their assent. It was neces- 
sary also to procure the consent of a family in the Genesee 
village, with whom Mrs. Campbell was to have been placed in 
the spring. They were kinsfolk of the king of the Senecas ; 
and it is no small proof of the esteem Mrs. Campbell had won 
from the Indians, that he volunteered to go himself, and per- 
suade them to yield thair claim. Though aged, the kind- 
hearted savage performed the journey on foot ; and returning 
informed Mrs. Campbell that she was free, bade her farewell, 
and promised to come and visit her when the war was over. 
In June, 1779, she was sent to Fort Niagara, but was not 
finally released till more than a year afterwards. 

The story of Frances Slocum, captured in Wyoming, has a 
wide celebrity. Her father was a member of the Society of 
Fiijnds^ and having always been kind to the Indians, was at 



150 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

first left unmolested ; but when they learned that one of hia 
sons had been in the battle, the family was marked out for 
vengeance. Soon after, the savages entered the house, seized 
Frances, then about five years old, and carried her oflf to the 
mountains. The alarm was instantly given, but the Indians 
eluded pursuit, and no trace of their retreat could be discov- 
ered. Nothing was heard of the captive till fifty-nine years 
afterwards, when an aged white woman, living with the Miami 
tribe of Indians in Indiana, was discovered to be the same 
person. She had become attached to Indian life, having been 
adopted as a daughter of their people, and living as a queen 
among them. 

The atrocities committed by hostile Indians form so promi- 
nent a feature in a history of Revolutionary times, that they 
should not pass entirely unnoticed. The few incidents de- 
scribed will give some idea of what occurred in various por- 
tions of the country — north, south and west — in a thousand 
similar instances. 

The events above noticed were the only prominent ones that 
took place in the northern section of the country during the 
latter part of 1778. Washington had proceeded with the 
army as far as White Plains, and late in the autumn went into 
winter quarters at Middlebrook, New Jersey. 



CHAPTER XIY. 

ATTACK ON THE SOUTH — SUBJUGATION OF GEORGIA 

SCENES IN SOUTH CAROLINA SIEGE OF SAVANNAH 

CLOSE OF THE CAMPAIGN OF 1779. 

Shortly after the conclusion of the alliance with France, 
the French fleet, under the command of Count D'Estaing, had 
been sent to America. The commander was prevented from 
an attack on the British fleet at New York, by the difficullj 
of crossing the bar at the entrance of the bay. He therji 
sailed for Newport, designing an attack on the British force 
stationed there, co-operating with an attempt by land, to bo 
made at the same time by troops under the command of Greue- 
rals La Fayette, Greene and Sullivan. On the 10th of 
August, 1778, Lord Howe's fleet appeared, and D'Estaing 
sailed out to engage him ; but the battle was prevented by a 
sudden and violent storm. The French commandant then 
sailed to Boston to repair the damages his vessels had sustain- 
ed, and the British fleet returned to New York. 

From this time the South was to be the principal field of 
military operations. In November, Count D'Estaing sailed 
with his fleet for the West Indies, designing there to attack 
the possessions of Great Britain. Sir Henry Clinton, on his 
part, despatched Col. Campbell from New York on an expedi- 



152 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

tion against Georgia, the feeblest of the Southern provinces 
His troops landed late in December n^ar Savannah, defecated 
the American commander, and obtained possession of that 
capital. This was the first step in the British plan of con- 
quering Georgia and South Carolina. But little, however, 
had been accomplished in the last two years, towards the com- 
pletion of the great enterprise of reducii\g the colonics to sub- 
jection. 

The military operations of 1779 were not of great impor- 
tance. The British were bent on vigorously prosecuting their 
scheme of conquest at the South. Shortly after the fall 
of Savannah, Gen. Prevost, with troops from East Florida, 
took possession of Sunbury, the only military post in the 
State held by Americans, and joining his forces to those of 
l/ol. Campbell, assumed the chief command of the royal army 
at the South. The loyalists who came along the western fron- 
tier of Carolina to join his standard, committed great devasta- 
tiony on their way. Gen. Lincoln, who commanded the conti- 
nental forces in the southern department, sent a detachment 
under Gen. Ashe across the Savannah, to repress the incur- 
sions of the enemy. The surprise and defeat of this detach- 
ment h}"- Prevost, completed the subjugation of Georgia. 

The war swept. with violence over this State, the country 
being overrun with irregular marauders after Col. Campbell 
took possession of Savannah. As many of the inhabitants as 
could retire fi-om the storm did so, awaiting a happier time to 
renew the struggle. One of .those who sought refuge in Flo- 
rida, was Mr. Spaldinir, whose establishments were on the 
river St. John's. lie had the whole Indian trade from the 



CHAPTER xrv. 153 

Altamalia to the Apalachicola. Ilis property, with his pur- 
suits, was destroyed by the war , yet his heart was ever with 
his countrymen, and the home he prepared was the refuge of 
every American prisoner in Florida. Mrs. Spalding twice 
during the war traversed the two hundred miles between 
St. John's River and Savannah in an open boat, with only 
black servants, when the whole country was a desert, without 
a house to shelter her and her infant son. The first of these 
occasions was when she visited her father and brothers while 
prisoners in Savannah. 

By great exertions on the part of the whigs, the American 
General Lincoln was enabled to recommence operations by 
the middle of April. Leaving Gen. Moultrie to watch the 
movements of Prevost, he began his march up the Savannah, 
intendinsj to cross into Georo-ia near Auo-usta. Gen. Prevost 
on his part, attacked Moultrie and Pulaski, compelling them 
to retreat, and then hurried, early in May, to place him- 
self before Charleston. His approach caused great terror 
and disturbance among the inhabitants. Mrs. Wilkinson, 
who lived at Yonge's Island, thirty milos south of Charles- 
ton, describes, in her letters, some of the scenes that oc- 
curred. She was in Charleston when news came that a 
large party of the enemy had landed near Beaufort. AVith a 
few friends, she went over to her father's plantation, but 
did not remain long ; for upon receiving information that a 
body of British horse was within five or six miles, they 
crossed the river to Wadmalaw, and went for refuge to the 
house of her sister. A large boat-load of women and chil- 
dren hurrying for safety to Charleston, stayed with them a 
1* 



154 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

day or two, and presented a sad spectacle of the miseries 
brought in the train of war. 

The surrounding country was waiting in a distressed con- 
dition for the coming of Gen. Lincoln, to whom the people 
looked for deliverance. Many painful days of suspense passed 
before tidings were received. All trifling discourse was laid 
aside — the ladies who gathered in knots talking only of politi- 
cal affairs. At last the joyful news was brought of the ap- 
proach of Lincoln. Mrs. Wilkinson was then with her sister 
at an inland country-seat. They were called on by parties of 
the Americans, whom they always received with friendly hos- 
pitality. " The poorest soldier," says she, " who called at 
any time for a drink of water, I would take a pleasure in giv- 
ing it to him myself; and many a dirty, ragged fellow have I 
attended with a bowl of water, or milk and water ; they really 
merit everything, who will fight from principle alone ; for 
from what I could learn, these poor creatures had nothing to 
protect, and seldom got their pay ; yet with what alacrity will 
they encounter danger and hardships of every kind !" 

Gren. Prevost was compelled to retire from his position on 
the approach of Lincoln. He proceeded to the island of St. 
John's, separated from the mainland by an inlet called Stono 
River ; and leaving a division at Stono Ferry, retired with a 
part of his force towards Savannah. On the 2d of June, 
two men belonging to his army, rode up to the house occupied 
by the lady already mentioned, and asked many questions, 
saying that Col. M 'Girth and his soldiers might be presently 
looked for, and that the inmates could expect no mercy. The 
family remained in a state of cruel suspense for many hours. 



CHAPTER XIV. 155 

The following morning a party of the whigs called at the gate, 
but dill not alight. One of them in leaping a ditch, was hurt, 
and taken into the house for assistance ; and while they were 
dressing his wound, a negro girl gave the alarm that the 
" king's people" were coming. The two men mounted their 
horses and escaped; the women awaited the enemy's ap- 
proach. Mrs. Wilkinson wrote to a friend : 

" I heard the horses of the inhuman Britons coming — tho 
riders bellowing out the most horrid oaths and imprecations. 
I had no time for thought — they were up to the house — ■ 
entered with drawn swords and pistols in their hands, crying 
^' Where are those women rebels?" The moment thoy espied 
us, oflf went our caps, to get a paltry stone and wax pin, which 
kept them on our heads ; at the same time uttering abusive 
language, and making as if they would hew us to pieces with 
their swords. They had several armed negroes with them, 
who also threatened us. They then began to plunder the 
house of everything they thought worth taking ; our trunks 
were split to pieces, and each mean wretch crammed his bosom 
with the contents. I ventured to speak to the monster who 
had my clothes. I represented to him the times were such 
we could not replace what they had taken from us, and begged 
him to spare me only a suit or two : but so far was his callous 
heart fiom relenting, that casting his eyes towards my shoes, 
" I want them buckles," said he, and immediately knelt at 
my feet to take them out. While he was doing this, a brother 
villain bawled out, " Shares there, I say! shares !" So they 
ilividi'd my buckles between them. The others were employ- 
ed in the same manner ; they took my sist(!r's earrings from 



156 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

her ears, her and Miss Samuclls' buckles ; demanded her ring 
from her finger, and, after bundling up all their booty, mount- 
ed their horses ; each wretch's bosom stuffed so full, they ap- 
peared to be all afflicted with some dropsical disorder." 

This outrage was followed by a visit from M'Girth's men, 
who treated the ladies with more civility ; one of them promis- 
ing to make a report at camp of the usage they had received. 
Yet they were not content without their share of plunder, 
though more polite in the manner of taking it. " While the 
British soldiers were talking to us, some of the silent ones 
withdrew, and presently laid siege to a beehive, which they 
soon brought to terms. The others perceiving it, cried out, 
* Hand the ladies a plate of hon?y.' This was immediately 
done with officious haste, no doubt thinking they were very 
generous in treating us with our own. There were a few 
horses feeding in the pasture. They had them driven up. 
'Ladies, do either of you own these horses?' 'No; they 
partly belong to father and Mr. Smilie !' ' Well, ladies, as 
they are not your property, we will take them.' " The aged 
father was visited the same day by another body of troops, 
who plundered the house. " After drinking all the wine, rum, 
&c. they could find, and inviting the negroes they had with 
them, who were very insolent, to do the same — they went to 
their horses, and would shake hands with father and mother 
before their departure !" 

After such unwelcome visitors, it is not surprising that the 
unprotected women could not eat or sleep in peace. They 
lay in their clothes every night, alarmed by the least noise ; 
while the days were spent in anxiety and melancholy. One 



CHAPTER XIV. 1 57 

morning, when Mrs. Wilkinson was coming out of her cham- 
ber, her eyes fixed on the window — for she was always on tho 
watch — she saw something glitter through a thin part of the 
wood bordering the road. It proved to bo the weapons of a 
large body of soldiers. She concluded they were British 
troops ; and every one in the house took the alarm. " Never 
was there such a scene of confusion. Sighs, complaints, 
wringing of hands, one running here, another there, spreading 
the dreadful tidings ; and in a little time the negroes in 
the field came running up to the house with a hundred 
stories. Table, tea-cups — all the breakfast appai-atus — were 
immediately huddled together and borne off; and we Avatched 
sharply to see which w^ay the enemy took. In a minute 
or two we saw our avenue crowded with horsemen in uniform. 
Said I, ' That looks like our uniform — blue and red' — but I 
immediately recollected to have heard that the Hessian 
uniform was much like ours ; so out of the house we went, 
into an out-house." Their excessive fright prevented the 
explanation attempted from hAiig understood. While the 
officer was endeavoiing to reassure the terrified ladies, a negro 
woman came up, and tapping Mrs. Wilkinson on the shoulder, 
whispered, " I don't like these men ; one of them gave me 
this piece of silver for some milk ; and I know our people 
don't have so much silver these times. " 

The horsemen were a party of Ameiicans, under the com- 
mand of Maj. Moore. The mistake had been mutual — the 
listress shown at sight of them having caused the officer in 
omniand to concludi; himself a'ld his men unwelcome visitors 
to some tory family. The discovery that they were friends 



158 DOMESTIC HISTORY oF THE REVOLUTION. 

changed fear into delight. Word was presently brouglit that 
a number of the enemy were carrying provisions from a plan- 
tation about two miles distant. The whigs marched to the 
place, and returned with seven prisoners. Two of these were 
of M' Girth's party, who had treated the ladies so cruelly ; yet 
notwithstanding the injuries received, the kind heart of Mrs. 
Wilkinson relented at the sight of them. She expressed pity 
for their distress, and inquiring if they would like anything to 
drink, supplied them with water, holding the glass to their 
lips, as their hands were tied behind them. '• An officer had 
a ball through his arm ; we could find no rag to dress his 
wounds, everything in the- house being thrown into r.uch con- 
fusion by the plunderers ; but Miss Samuells took from her 
neck the only remaining handkerchief the Britons had left her, 
and with it bound up his arm." 

Their friends having left them, Mr. Yonge sent for his 
daughter to his own plantation. The ladies wer e obliged to 
walk three miles in the ovei-powerino; heat, the horses having 
been taken away ; but umbrellas were sent for them, and they 
were attended by two of Mr. Yonge's negro men armed with 
clubs. While crossing a place called the Sands, the blacks 
captured and wounded a negro belonging to the loyalists, who 
came out of the woods. Mrs. Wilkinson interfered to save 
his life. They arrived safe at their father's, whence they 
were driven ere lono; by another alarm. This time their flight 
was in darkness, through bogs and woods, stumbling against 
the stumps or each other. In their new abode they had more 
security. Parties of friends were out, continually, keeping 
the enemy quiet ; and sometimes in tlio night soldiers would 



CHAPTER XIV. 159 

ride up, and bid the negroes tell the ladies they miglit sleep 
goundly, for they were to maintain a patrol during the night. 

At length the arrival of Gen. Lincoln was announced; 
and he was joyfully welcomed by the inmates of the house 
That night two or three hundred men were quartered on the 
plantation — some of the officers sleeping in the hall. They 
refused to have their beds made. " Beds were not for sol- 
diers ; the floor or the earth served them as well as any where 
else." At daybreak they moved to camp. 

Gen. Lincoln, with Col. Pickens, attacked the division 
at Stono Ferry on the 20th June, but was repulsed with loss. 
The British shortly after established a post at Beaufort, and 
the main body of the army retired to Savannah ; the hot and 
sickly season preventing further action on either side for some 
months. 

An incident that occurred at this time illustrates the cha- 
racter of some of the American women, as well as the condi- 
tion of the country. The residence of Bobert Gibbes on 
Stono Biver, upon John's Island, was known as the seat 
of hospitality and elegant taste. The rumor of its luxu- 
rious living probably attracted attention, and a battalion of 
British and Hessians, determined to quarter themselves in 
so desirable a spot, arrived at the landing at the dead of 
night, and marching up in silence, surrounded the house. 
The day had not dawned, when an aged and faithful servant 
tapped softly at the door of Mrs. Gibbes' apartment. The 
whisper — " Mistress, the redcoats are all around the house," 
was the first intimation given of their danger. Her prepara- 
tions wvre instantly commenced to receive the intruders 



160 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Having dressed herself quickly, she went up stairs, waked 
several ladies who were guests in the house, and requested 
them to rise and dress with all possible haste. In the mean 
time the domestics were directed to prepare the children, of 
whom, with her own eight, and those under her care, there 
were sixteen. These were speedily dressed and seated in the 
spacious hall. Mrs. Gibbes then assisted her husband, who 
was a cripple, to rise and dress, and had him placed in his 
rolling chair. All these arrangements were made so silently 
that the enemy had no idea any one was awake within the 
house. The object of Mrs. Gibbes was to prevent violence 
by showing them that the mansion was inhabited only by those 
who were unable to defend themselves. When the door was 
thrown open, and the stately form of the invalid was seen, 
surrounded by women and children, they drew back, startled 
into an involuntary expression of respect. The officers took 
immediate possession of the house, leaving the premises to 
their men, and extending no protection against pillage. The 
soldiers roved at their pleasure about the plantation, helping 
themselves to whatever they chose ; breaking into the wine- 
room, drinking to intoxication, and seizing and carrying off the 
negroes. A large portion of the plate was saved by the pru- 
dent care of a faithful servant, who secretly buried it. Within 
the house the energy and self-possession of Mrs. Gibbes still 
protected her family. Maintaining her place as mistress of 
her household, and presiding at her table, she treated her un- 
invited guests with a dignified courtesy that ensured civility 
while it prevented presumptuous familiarity. 

When the news reached Charleston that the British had 



CHAPTER XIV. 161 

encamped on this plantation, the authorities in that city des- 
patched two galleys to dislodge them. These vessels ascend- 
ed the river in the nio-ht, and arrivmg opposite, opened a 
heavy fire upon the invaders' encampment. As soon as the 
firing began, Mr. Gibbes proposed to his wife that they should 
take the children and seek a place of greater safety. Their 
horses being in the enemy's hands, they had no means of con- 
veyance ; but Mrs. Gibbes set off to walk with the children to 
an adjoining plantation in the interior. A drizzling rain was 
-falling, and the weather was extremely chilly ; the fire was 
incessant from the American guns, and sent, in order to 
avoid the house, in a direction which was in a range with the 
course of the fugitives. The shot, falling around them, cut 
the bushes, and struck the trees on every side. Exposed 
each moment to this imminent danger, they continued their 
flight with as much haste as possible for about a mile, till 
beyond reach of the shot. 

Having reached the houses occupied by the negro laborers 
on the plantation, they stopped for a few moments to rest. 
Mrs. Gibbes, wet, chilled, and exhausted by fatigue and men- 
tal anxiety, felt her strength fail, and was obliged to wrap 
herself in a blanket and lie down upon one of the beds. It 
was then that, on reviewing the group to ascertain if all had 
escaped uninjured, it was found that a little boy, in the hurry 
and terror of their flight, had been forgotten and left behind ! 
What was to be done ? The servants refused to risk their 
lives by returning for him. The roar of the distant guns waa 
still heard ; the chilly rain was falling, and the darkness was 
profound. In this extremity ^lary Anna, the eldest daughter. 



162 DOMESTIC FISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

only thirteen years of age, determined to venture back alone 
Hastening along the path, she reached the house, still in the 
possession of the enemy ; entreated permission from the sen- 
tinel to enter, and searching anxiously, found the child in a 
room in the third story. Lifting him joyfully in her arms she 
carried him down, and fled with him to the spot where her 
anxious parents were awaiting her return. The shot flew 
thickly around her, frequently throwing up the earth in her 
way ; but protected by the Providence that watches over 
innocence, she joined the rest of the family in safety. 

The anniversary of the alliance with France was celebrated 
by an entertainment given in the camp near Middlebrook, New 
Jersey. On this festive occasion Mrs. Washington, Mrs. Greene 
and Mrs. Knox, with the wives of several officers, were present ; 
and ladies and gentlemen from a large circuit around the 
camp, attended the celebration. It was opened by a discharge 
of cannon , and dinner was prepared in a building used for an 
academy. There was dancing in the evening, and a grand 
display of fire-works. The ball was opened by General 
Washington. As this was a festival given by men who had 
not enriched themselves by the war, the illuminations were on 
a cheap scale, being entirely of their own manufacture ; the 
seats w^re adorned with no armorial blazonry, but were the 
work of native, and rather unskilful artizans. " Instead of 
knights of difi'erent orders, such as pageants like the Mischi- 
anza could boast, there were but hardy soldiers ; happy, how- 
ever, in the consciousness that they had contributed to bring 
about the auspicious event they had met to celebrate " 

Among the lively sallies of the belles of this entertainment, 



CHAPTER XIV. 163 

one is recorded, that caused no inconsiderable arnnsement 
A young ladj, 'W'hen asked if the roaring of the British lion 
in his late speech had not somewhat depressed the spirit of 
the dance — replied : " No, it should rather enliven it ; for I 
have heard that such animals always increase their howlings 
when frightened." 

During this year the forces of Sir Henry Clinton were em- 
ployed at the north in various incursions from New York, for 
the purpose of ravaging the coasts and laying waste the 
country. The object was to impoverish and distress it. An 
expedition was sent to Virginia ; Gov. Tryon jDlundcred New 
Haven, Connecticut, and wantonly burned other towns in that 
State. Their inhabitants were treated with great cruelty. 
The Americans on their part accomplished little, with the ex- 
ception of Gen. Wayne's brilliant exploit — the recapture of 
Stony Point, and an expedition under Gen. Sullivan against 
the Six Nations of Indians. Sullivan chastised their depreda- 
tions upon the border settlements by laying waste the Indian 
country to the Genessee River, and destroying their fields and 
villages. Some of the tribes abandoned the country on his 
approach, and fled within command of the British forts in 
Canada, promiscuously settling there. They frecjuently inva- 
ded the frontier settlements, burning and murdering, and 
carrying oft' prisoners. 

Great difficulties, meanwhile, had been growing out of the 
rapid depreciation of the Continental currency, or the bills of 
credit issued by Congress. A dollar in specie was frequently 
exchanged for forty, or even eighty, in bills. The common 
necessaries of life were enormously high ; four month's pay of 



164 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

a soldier, it was said, would hardly procure his family a 1 ishel 
of wheat. The bill of a party of travellers in Pennsyl ;ania, 
after six weeks' lodging, amounted to thirty-two thousaLid dol- 
lars in paper money. The daughter of Dr. Franklin wrote to 
him that she had to pay two hundred pounds for a winter cloak 
and hat, and gauze was fifty dollars a yard. The time came 
when her domestics were obliged to take two baskets to mar- 
ket — one empty to contain the provisions they purchased, the 
other full of continental money to pay for them. Yet in 
spite of the continued rise of prices, she says in January 
1779, " there never was so much dressing and pleasure going 
on in the capital." 

The Count 'D'Estaing returned with his fleet from the West 
Indies, and in concert with the troops of Gon. Lincoln, pro- 
ceeded early in September to the siege of Savannah. Marion 
was at tliis siege, which continued a month. The celebrated 
Count Pulaski also was with the Americans. On one occa- 
sion, when the dragoons commanded by him were ordered to 
charge a party of British approaching the camp, that noble- 
man, who was a splendid horseman, was seen riding up and 
down the lines on his black charger, chapeau in hand, ex- 
claiming now and then, in his imperfect English, "I am sorry 
for your country ! I am sorry for your country !" He fell in 
the assault upon the city on the 9th of October. The Ame- 
ricans were driven back, and the enterprise^ was abandoned. 
The French fleet shortly after departed from the coast, and 
Gen. Lincoln retreated into South Carolina. 

A cloud of dBspondency hung over the close of this year 
It was true that Great Britain was threatened by a combina- 



CHAPTER XIV. 165 

tion of power, Spain having declared war against her ; but h'^r 
resources seemed to increase with the demand- on them. In 
the United States the flattering hopes inspired by the alliance 
with France had not been realized. The continental army 
reduced in numbers and wretchedly clothed — the treasury 
empty — the paper currency rapidly diminishing in value — dis- 
tress was brought on all classes, and the prospect seemed 
more than ever dark and discouraging. It needed all the pru- 
dence and the exertions of General Washington to keep the 
army from dissolution. 



CHAPTER XV. 

CAMPAIGN OF 1780 SURRENDER OF CHARLESTON COy- 

QUEST OF SOUTH CAROLINA FIRST OUTBREA.K OF 

RENEWED RESISTANCE. 

The successful defence of Fort Moultrie had secured for 
South Carolina a long exemption from the horrors of civil war ; 
but she was now to become the most important theatre of 
operations. Sir Henry Clinton planned the campaign of 
1780 on an extensive scale. In this transfer of the scene of 
action, military operations were nearly suspended at the North. 
Late in December, 1779, Gen. Clinton sailed with the bulk of 
his army from New York, arrived in about a month in Georgia, 
and on the lOtli of February, quitted Savannah for the siege 
of Charleston, then defended by Gen. Lincoln. 

The islands south of the city were captured, the fleet of 
Admiral Arbuthnot was anchored in the Charleston harbor, 
and on the 9th of April, the besiegers opened their bat- 
teries. The American militia, for the purpose of succoring 
the city, had assembled a force commanded br Gen. Huger, 
at Monk's Corner, on the upper part of Cooper river. Gen. 
Clinton sent a detachment, April 14th, which surprised and 
dispersed them — a number of the mounted militia escaping 



CHAPTER XV. 167 

with the loss of their horses. The British overran the coun- 
try, often venturing beyond their lines, when the inhabitants suf- 
fered much from their depredations. An anecdote is related of 
Mrs. Izard, who resided near Dorchester, within the range of 
their excursions. Her husband, who was aid to the com- 
manding officer of the Light troops, was at home, when the 
alarm was suddenly given by the appearance of a party of 
British soldiers.' He hastily concealed himself in a clothes- 
press, while his wife awaited the entrance of his enemies. A 
search proving unsuccessful, the soldiers threatened to fire the 
house ; they robbed his wardrobe, and several- of tlie ma- 
rauders arrayed themselves in his best coats ; valuable articles 
were seized in the presence of the lady, and an attempt was 
even made to force her rings from her fingers. Yet she be- 
trayed no apprehension, knowing that her husband's safety 
depended on her self-possession. No sooner were the plun- 
derers gone, than Mr. Izard made his escape, and quickly 
crossing the Ashley, %ave notice to the Americans on the 
other side of the river of the proximity of the enemy. The 
British soldiers were intercepted by a body of cavalry that 
had pushed across Bacon's bridge, and so completely routed, 
that but a few of their number returned within their lines to 
relate the disaster. 

Before this time, much difficulty having arisen fiom t\\Q 
want of ammunition, Gov. Butledge had sent a supply from 
Cliarleston to the regiments throughout the State, to be in 
readiness for any disturbances that might arise. Many of 
these suj)pli('s were secured by tlie patriots in tlie back coun- 
try, by secreting them in liolluw trees and tin; like liiding- 



168 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION 

places. The wife of Col. Thomas, of Spartanburg district, 
preserved a portion stored in her house, by defending it, with 
the aid of two young men, against the assault of a party of 
tories. When the loyalists came to secure some in the charge 
of Mrs. Bratton, she was informed of their approach, and 
immediately laid a train of powder from the depot to the spot 
where she stood. When the detachment came in sight, she 
set fire to the train and blew it up. The wife of Maj. Otter- 
son, who lived on Tyger river, and chanced to know where a 
barrel of gunpowder was concealed in the woods, also prepared 
a train and blew it up, on hearing that a party of loyalists 
were coming for the treasure. 

The whole country sympathized in the suffering and appre- 
hension endured withiu the beleagured city. The son of Capt. 
Wade, who was at the time only five years old, was then with 
his grandmother, Mrs. Martin, in one of the western districts. 
He recollects walking in the piazza oq a calm evening, when a 
light breeze blew from the east, and t^ sound of heavy can- 
non was distinctly heard in that direction. As report after 
report, which they knew must be from the city, reached their 
ears, the agitation of Mrs. Martin increased. She knew not 
what evils might be announced ; she knew not but the sound 
might be the knell of her sons, three of whom were then in 
Charleston. Their wives were with her, and partook of the 
same heart-chilling fears. They stood still for a few minutes, 
each wrapped in her own painful and silent reflections, till the 
mother at length, lifting up her hands and eyes, exclaimed 
fervently — " Thank Heaven, they are the children of the Re- 
public !" 



CHAPTER XV. 169 

Charleston surreudored on the 12tli of May, and Gen. 
Lincoln and the Ameiican army became prisoners of war 
This success seemed to insure the recovery of the southern 
section of the Union, and it was followed up by vigorous 
movements. The stronghold of Ninety-Six was taken, with 
Georgetown ; and posts were established at different points 
throughout the State, which now lay at the mercy of the con- 
queror. Severe measures were adopted to overawe the 
inhabitants, and secure a return to their allegiance. . 

A body of four hundred militia, under the command of 
Col. Buford, retreating towards North Carolina, wa>! pursued 
by Col. Tarleton, overtaken at the Waxhaws, and inhumanly 
cut to pieces, even while the men were entreating quarter 
This bloody slaughter was an earnest of what those who ven- 
tured resistance might expect. For some weeks all military 
opposition ceased ; and it was the boast of Sir Henry Clinton 
that here, at least, the American Revolution was ended. A 
proclamation was issuinl, denouncing vengeance on all wlio 
should dare appear in arms, save under the royal authority, 
and offeiing pardon to those who would accept British pro- 
tection by enrolling their names as loyal subjects of King 
George. The great body of the people, believing resistance 
unavailing, took the offered protection. Those in whose breasts 
the love of liberty was unconquerable, sought refuge in North 
Carolina. Sir Henry Clinton set sail early in June for New 
York, leaving Lord Cornwallis to command the army and re- 
establish the royal government. 

But till! spirit of a gallant poople, brought for a season under 
subj.'ction by tlu; arm of power, was not extinct. A few re- 



170 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

solute spirits, scattered over the country, were ready to -.eize 
the earliest opportunity of resistance. The first movoment 
towards an outbreak occurred in Chester District. An aged 
patriot, named John Gaston, who resided on Fishing Creek, 
not far from Catawba River, had nine sons whom he had 
brought up in the love of political freedom. He had been in 
the habit of sending one of them weekly to Camden, a dis- 
tance of nearly fifty miles, for the only newspaper published 
in the State — " The South Carolina and American General 
Gazette," His sons and his nephews often met at his house 
to speak together of the aspect of affairs, and consult what 
steps were to be taken. While they were assembled one day, 
a messenger brought intelligence of the slaughter of Buford's 
men by Tarleton's cavalry. At this news, the young men 
rose with one accord, grasped each other by the hand, and vo- 
luntarily, pledged themselves to suffer death rather than sub- 
mit to the invader. This spontaneous vow was confirmed by 
a solemn oath, and thenceforward they continued in arms. 

The wounded had been carried to Waxhaw Church as a 
hospital. The two daughters of Justice Gaston lost no time 
in repairing thither, and beheld a scene of misery. The floor 
was strewed with the wounded and dying American soldiers, 
suffering for want of aid ; for men dared not come to minister 
to their wants. It was the part of wonjan to bring relief to 
the helpless and perishing. Day and night they were busied 
in aiding the surgeon to dress their wounds, and in preparing 
food for those who needed it ; nor did they regard fatigue or 
exposure, going from place to place about the neighborhood to 



CHAPTER XV. 171 

procure sueli articles as wore desirable to alleviate the paia 
or add to tlie conifiM t of those to whom they iniiiistered. 

Hooky Mount had been selected by the British as a strong- 
hold, and a body of the royal fore.is was there stationed. 
Handbills were then circulated, notifying the inhabitants of 
the country, that they were required to assemble at an old 
field, where Beckhamville now stands, to give in their names as 
loyal subjects, and receive protection. After this proclama- 
tion was issued, Col. Houseman, the commander of the post 
at Rocky IMount, was seen with an escort wending his way to 
the residence of Justice Graston. He was met on the road by 
the old man, who civilly invited him into the house. The 
subject of his errand was presently introduced, and the 
Justice took the opportunity to animadvert, with all the 
warmth of his feelings, upon the recent horrible butchery, and 
the course pursued by the British government towards the 
American Colonies, which had driven them into the assertion of 
their independence. In despair of bringing to submission so 
strenuous an advocate of freedom, Col. Houseman at last left 
the house ; but presently returning, he again urged the mat- 
ter. He had learned, he said, from some of His Majesty's 
faithful subjects about Rocky Mount, that Gaston's influence 
would control the whole country ; he observed that resistance 
was useless, and that true patriotism should induce the Jus- 
tice to reconsider his determination, and by his example 
persuade his sons and numerous connections to submit to law- 
ful authority, and join the assembly on the morrow at the old 
field. To these persuasions the old man gave only the stern 
reply — " Never !" 



172 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

No sooner had Houseman departed, than the aged patriot 
took further steps. He immediately despatched runners to 
various places in the neighborhood, requiring the people to 
meet that night at his house. The summons was obeyed 
Before midnight thirty-three men of active and powerfu. 
frames — men trained and used to the chase — were assembled. 
They had been collected by Capt. John McClurc, and were 
under his command. Clad in their hunting-shirts and moc- 
casins, with their wool hats and deer-skin caps, the otter-skin 
shot-bag and the butcher's knife by their sides, and armed 
with the rifle, they were ready for any enterprise in the cause 
of liberty. Early in the morning they paraded before the 
door of Justice Gaston. He came forth, and in compliance 
with the custom of that day, brought with him a large case 
bottle. Commencing with the officers, he gave each a hearty 
shake of the hand, and then presented the bottle. The men 
then took their course noiselessly along the old Indian trail 
down Fishing Creek, to the field, where many of the people 
were already gathered. Their sudden onset took by surprise 
the promiscuous assemblage, about two hundred in number, 
and the enemy was defeated. 

Two mere youths — William Stroud and Joseph Wade — 
who had enrolled their names with the British, at the begin- 
ning of the fight threw themselves on their faces upon the 
ground. But when McClure's party took possession, they 
rose from among the dead, and joined the ranks of thoir coun- 
trymen. Both were afterwards so unfortunate as to be cap- 
tured by the royalists, who showed no mercy to those found 
in arms after having taken protection. Stroud was hung by 



CHAPTER XV. 173 

the roadsiJo, a placard forbkldiag his hurial being fastened to 
the body, and Wade, it is said, received a thousand lashes. 

This encounter was the first eifort to breast the storm after 
the suspension of military opposition ; the opening wedge to 
the recovery of South Carolina. Before the evening of that 
day, Justice Gafcton was informed of the success of the enter- 
prise, and judging wisely that his own safety depended on his 
immediate departure, his horse was presently at the door, with 
holster and pistols at the pommel of the saddle. The shot- 
bag at the old man's side was well supplied with ammunition, 
and his rifle, doubly charged, lay across the horse before him. 
Bestowing his parting blessing on his wife and gi-andchildren, 
he left home with his young son, Joseph, who was armed and 
mounted on another horse. On his way, he made a visit to 
Waxhaw church, where his daughters were still occupied with 
their labor of kindness, to carry the news of what " the boys," 
as he called them, had done. He then pursued his way till 
he could consider himself beyond the danger of pursuit. 

Loud and long were the curses of Houseman levelled against 
him. The arch rebel, he declared, must be taken, dead or 
alive ; and the King's loyal subjects were called upon to vo- 
lunteer in the exploit of capturing and biinging to llocky 
Mount a hoary headed-man, eighty years of age. Before the 
sun rose, about twenty redcoats were fording Bocky Creek, 
and wending their w;Ty towards Gaston's house. Mrs. Gaston 
and her little granddaughter, providentially advised of their 
approach, had (piitted the house. Their place of concealment 
was so near, that they could dl.stinctly hear the frightful oaths 
of the disappointed soldiers, and could see the redcoats pas- 



i 74 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

sing to and fro tlirougli the yard. The aged matron, clasping 
her grandchild's little hands between her own, knelt upon the 
ground, and in that glen, sheltered by bushes, poured out her 
petition not only for her husband and children, but for the 
liberty of her country and its deliverance from evil and blood- 
thirsty men, who had not the fear of their Creator before their 
eyes. In the fervor of her supplication she prayed aloud. 
Her granddaughter, in describing the scene, said she might 
have been heard as far as the house, and it was fortunate that 
the soldiers did not discover her. 

One of her grandsons, who was employed at work not far 
from the spot, heard the noise of the soldiers, and ascended a 
steep bluff within a short distance of the house, where he was 
concealed from view by the thick foliage. He heard the 
heavy strokes of their broadswords on the chair usually occu- 
pied by the Justice, with the wishes that he were in it to re- 
ceive the cleaving blows. The house was plundered of every- 
thing and the stock carried off. The only article saved was 
the Family Bible, which Mrs. Gaston had taken with her in 
her flight. It is still kept in the family. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

A SCO l-C.H IRISH SETTLEMENT RESULT CF MARTIN's 

PREACHING BATTLE AT MOBLEy's MEETING-HOUSE. 

It will be mteresting to take a glimpse into what passed at 
this time in * quiet little settlement on Rocky Creek, another 
branch of the Catawba River. This settlement was composed 
of a congregation of recent emigrants from the North of Ire- 
land — commonly called Scotch Irish. They had come to 
America about tbe year 1773, accompanied by their pastor 
the Rev. William Martin. Bounty lands had been bestowed 
by the government as inducements to emigration, and those 
who received such wa: rants, on their arrival took care to fix 
their location as near as possible to a central point, where it 
was their intention to build a meeting-house. Here, in the 
summer of 1773, the pious Covenanters might be seen from 
day to day, felling trees and clearing a space of ground, on 
which they reared a large log church, many of them living in 
tents at home, till a place was provided in which thoy could 
assemble for religious service. 

A number of log cabins soon rose in the neighborhood, 
each with a patch of ground in which Indian corn was planted. 
The Irish emigrants were ignorant of the manner of cultivat- 



176 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

ing this grain ; but the first settlers, or " country-borns" were 
ready to offer assistance, and took pains to instruct them 
The wants of small families were supplied with small crops, 
for corn was then only used for making bread, the woods af- 
fording abundant supplies of grass, cane and wild pea vines 
to serve their horses and cattle for provender the year round. 
The streams abounded in shad and various other fish in their 
season, and the trusty rifle that hung on the rack over the 
door, was never brought back without having performed its 
duty in slaying the deer, or whatever small game might be 
sought in the forest. Often have the old men who lived at 
that day spoken of the abundance that prevailed ; a good 
hunter, when he chose, making five dollars a day in deer 
skins and hams, while, if generous, he might give away the re- 
mainder of venison to the poor. The hams and skins were 
sent to Charleston and exchanged for powder, lead, and other 
necessary articles. The wealth of these primitive planters 
consisted in stock, their labors in tilling the earth, felling the 
woods and fencing their fields, while they were disturbed by 
none of the wants or cares created by a more advanced state 
of civilization. Such was the condition of the Covenanters 
who had left their native Ireland for the religious liberty found 
in the wilds. During seven years after their settlement in the 
woods, they enjoyed a life in which nothing of earthly comfort 
was wanting. Every Sabbath morning the parents, in their 
Sunday clothes, with their neatly-dressed and well-behaved 
little ones, might be seen at the log meeting-house ; their 
pocket Bibles containing the old Psalms in their hands 
Tiii-nino' over the leaves, they would follow the preacher in all 



CHAPTER XVI. 177 

the passages of Scripture cited by him, as he commented on 
his text. Their simple, trustful piety caused the wilderness 
to rejoice. 

. But this happiness could not be lastin;^. The rumor cf 
war which had gone over the land, was heard even in this re- 
mote section, and these refugees who had found peace could 
not but sympathize with their oppressed brethren. Some, it 
is true, from the vicinity, had been out in what was called 
" the Snow Campaign," — an expedition undertaken towards 
the close of 1775 against the fierce Cherokee Indians, and 
certain loyalists in the upper districts ; some had been present 
at the attack on Sullivan's Island in 1776, and brought a report 
to those remaining at home. Yet, so far, this pleasant neigh- 
borhood had been spared ; its families were unmolested, and 
the pure ordinances of the gospel were regularly administered, 
with none to make them afraid. This immunity was of shoi't 
duration. Intelligence was brought of the surrender of 
Charleston. Still worse was the news from across the river 
— of the massacre at the Waxhaws. Directly after this ap- 
palling announcement, spread the rumor that a strong party 
of British was posted at Rocky Mount, that the people of 
Wateree were flocking to take protection as loyal subjects, and 
that the conquerors were sending forces in every direction to 
reduce the province to submission. Such was the aspect of 
affairs up to a certain Sabbath in June of this year. 

On the morning of this memorable Sabbath, the different 
paths leading to the log meeting-house were unusually throng- 
ed. The old country folk were dressed with their usual neat- 
ness, especially the women, whose braw garments, brought 
8* 



178 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

from Ireland, were carefully preserved, not merely from thrift, 
but as a memorial of the green isle of their birth. Their 
dresses of silk, chintz, or Irish calico — and the fiae broad-cloth 
coats, many colored hose, and silver knee-buckles worn by the 
men — gave the congregation assembled to worship in that rude 
sanctuary, a strange and motley appearance — European 
finery being contrasted with the homespun gowns, hunting- 
shirts and moccasins of the country people. It was always 
insisted on as a point of duty among the Covenanters, that 
children should be brought to church with their parents. The 
little ones sat between the elders, that they might be kept 
quiet during divine service, and be ready at the appointed 
hour for the catechism. The strict deportment and piety of 
this people had already done much to change the customs 
formerly prevalent ; men and women who used to hunt or fish 
on the Sabbath now went regularly to meeting, and some noto- 
rious ones, whose misconduct had been a nuisance to the com- 
munity, left the neighborhood. 

On this particular day the whole neighborhood seemed to 
have turned out, and every face wore an expression of anxiety. 
Grroups of men might be seen gathered together under shade- 
trees in every direction, talking in loud and earnest tones ; 
some laying down plans for the assent of their friends ; some 
pale with alarm, listening to others telling the news, and some 
transported with indignation, stamping the ground and gesti- 
culating vehemently as they spoke. Everywhere the women 
mingled with the different groups, and appeared to take an 
active part in what was going on. At eleven o'clock the 
venerable form of Martin, the preacher, came in sight. Hf 



CHAPTER XVI. 17& 

;vas about sixty years of a/^e, and had a lil;^li roputation for 
loaniing and eloquence He was a large and powerful man, 
with a voice which it is said might have boon heard at a great 
distance. As he walked from the place where ho had hitched 
his horse, towards the stand, it being customary, when the 
congregation was too large to be accommodated in the meet- 
ing-house, to have the service in the open air, the loud and 
angry voices ceased, and the congregation was soon seated in 
silence upon the logs around the stand. 

When he arose to speak, every eye was fixed upon him. 
Those who had been most noisy expected a reproof for their 
desecration of the Sabbath ; for their faithful pastor was never 
known to fail of rebuking those whose deportment was unsuit- 
ed to the solemnity of the day. But at this time he too 
seemed absorbed with the subject that agitated every bosom. 
'' My hearers," he said, in his broad Scotch Irish dialect — 
* talk and angry words will do no good. JVe must fight ! 
As your pastor — in preparing a discourse suited to this time 
of trial — I have sought for all light, examined the Scriptures 
and other helps in ancient and modern history, and have con- 
sidered especially the controversy between the United Colo- 
nies and the mother country. Sorely have our countrymen 
been dealt with, till forced to the declaration of their inde- 
'pendonce. Our forefathers in Scotland made a similar one, 
and maintained that declaration with their lives ; it is now 
our turn, brethren, to maintain this at all hazards." 

After the prayer and singing of the Psalms — he calmly 
openi.'d his discourse. Tie cited many passages from Scrip- 
tuie to show that a people may lawfully r;\sibt wick m1 rulers ; 



180 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

pointed to Jiistorical examples of princes trampling on the 
people's rights ; painted in vivid colors the rise and progress 
of the Reformation, and finally applied the subject by fairly 
stating the merits of the Revolutionary controversy. Giving 
a brief sketch of the events of the war from the first shedding 
of blood at Lexington, and warming with the subject as he 
went on, his address became eloquent with the fiery energy of 
a Demosthenes. In a voice like thunder, frequently striking 
with his clenched fist the clapboard pulpit, he appealed to the 
excited concourse, exhorting them to fight valiantly in defence 
of their liberties. As he dwelt on the recent tragedy, his 
indio-nation reached its hei2;ht. Stretchinsr out his hand to- 
wards Waxhaw — " Gro see," he cried — "the tender mercies 
of Great Britain ! In that church you may find .men, though 
still alive, hacked out of the very semblance of humanity ; 
some deprived of their arms, some with one arm or leg, 
and some with both legs cut ofi". Is not this cruelty a pa- 
rallel to the history of our Scottish fathers, driven from their 
conventicles, hunted like wild beasts, &c. .'"' 

To this stirring sermon the whole assembly responded. 
Hands were clenched and teeth set in the intensity of feeling ; 
every uplifted face expressed the same determination, and 
even the women were filled with the spirit that threatened 
vengeance on the invaders. Durins; the interval of divine 
worship they went about professing their resol ation to do their 
part m the approaching contest ; to plough the fields and 
gather the cops in the absence of the men. In the afternoon 
the subject was resumed and discussed with renewed energy, 
while the appeals of the pi-cacher were answered by even more 



CHAPTER XVI. l&l 

energetic demonstrations of feeling. When the worship wag 
concluded, and the congregation separating to return home- 
ward, the manly form of Capt. Ben Land was seen walking 
among the people, shaking hands with every neighbor and 
whispering in his ear the summons to the next day's work. 

On the way home from meeting, one of the Covenanters — 
William Anderson — was unusually silent, as if some weighty 
matter engaged all his thoughts. His wife spoke first, after 
she too had been reflecting. " I think, William, little Lizzy 
and I can finish the crop, and gather it in if need be, as well 
as take care of the stock." — " I am glad of that, Nancy," was 
the reply. " I was silent, for I did na ken how to let you 
know it, but to-morrow morning I leave home. The way is 
now clear ; the word of God approves, and it shall ne'er be 
said that the Covenanters, the followers of the reformers of 
Scotland, would na lend a helpin' hand to the renewal of the 
Covenant in the land of America ! Now, Nancy, Capt. Land 
will be out before day, giving notice that up at the cross road 
hard by, he will drill the men who are willing to fight; this 
was agreed upon as I left." Thoir conversation through the 
day was in the same strain. That Sunday evening wore away, 
and early on Monday morning the plough stood still in the 
furrow, and the best horse, saddled and bridled, was at the 
door. jNIrs. Anderson had been up since a little after mid- 
night, making hoe cakes on the hoe, and corn dodger in 
the oven, and while the cooking of moats was going on, busily 
plying the needle, running up sacks and bags to hold provi- 
sion for man and hoisc on a long journey. As soon as ho 



182 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

had taken his breakfast, "William bade his wife farewell, 
mounted and rode off. 

The effect of Martin\s eloquence was speedily apparent. 
Early on that morning many of the Covenanters were seen 
drilling on the musterground, seven miles from Rocky 
Mount, under Capt. Land, while two miles above, at the 
house of a neo-ro blacksmith, half a dozen more were gettino* 
their horses shod. Those at the musters-round were charged 
upon by a party of British dragoons and dispersed, a traitor 
having carried news of them to the enemy. The Captain was 
overtaken and surrounded, and being attacked with their 
broadswords, defended himself bravely to the last. The 
party at the blacksmith's shop was also surprised, and one 
man killed. The dragoons then crossed Rocky Creek, and 
soon made their way to the rude stone hut which was the 
preacher's dwelling. They found the old divine in his study, 
preparing a sermon which was to be a' second blast, made him 
their prisoner, and carried him like a felon to Rocky Mount. 
The c-ountry was daily scoured for the purpose of discovering 
and destroying the whigs, and the unoffending inhabitants 
were plundered. Meanwhile, the loyalists were collecting and 
strengthening the royal post. 

The victory at the Old Field was followed by a battle at 
Mobley's Meeting-house, on the banks of Little River in 
Fairfield District. This attack was proposed by Col. ^Yim\ 
of Fairfield. A number of people from the vicinity had 
assembled in obedience to a summons from the comman- 
der at Rocky Mount, to take protection and enlist in the 
ro^-al army ; a suitable person being sent fiom head(juaiters 



CHAPTER XVI? 183 

with a force suffiei.Mit to sustain Iiini in any necessary moveniont. 
This functionary afti>r a while became wearied in the per- 
formance of his duties, and indulged himself in a nap ; on 
awakening from which, some one accosted him with the ques- 
tion : "What if McClure should come upon us?" He re- 
plied — " I wish he would, for I am full of fight." This same 
redoubtable champion was found after the battle ensconced in 
the chimney corner. 

In making his attack on this place, McClure surrounded 
three sides of the house, the fourth being guarded by a precipice 
down which it was supposed no one would venture to leap, 
though more British and loyalists perished in the attempt to 
escape this way than by the rifles of his sharp-shooters. The 
success of the Americans was as decided as it had been at 
Beckhamyille. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

. OF HUCK BATTLE AT WILI 

" BLOODY BILL CUNNINGHAM." 

The " outljers" in the middle couritiy gathered under the 
command of Colonels Pickens and Williams, were not slow in 
doing their share of service. Many, too, of the patriots of 
York, Chester, and other border districts, who had fled to 
North Carolina, organized themselves in companies, and under 
brave leaders, began to collect on the frontier. McClure 
spread his men in small parties over the country. They 
harassed the enemy by sudden and desultory attacks. They 
depended on their own exertions for everything necessary to 
carry on the warfare ; tabernacled in the woods and swamps, 
with beasts of the forest, and frequently wanted both for food 
and clothing. 

The report of the disaster at Mobley's Meeti6g-house being 
carried to Rocky Mount, the commander of that post sent out 
a strong party under Capt. Christian Huyck or Huck, in pur- 
suit of the whigs, who retreated across the Catawba, as f\ir as 
Lincoln County in North Carolina. On this incursion of the 
royal troops, many outrages were committed on the helpless 



c;tiapter xvir. 185 

families where they passed. On Sunday morning, June 11th, 
the troops under Iluck arrived at the house of the sister of 
John Gaston, near Fishing Creek Church. They immediately 
entered and plundered the hou§e of everything, carrying away 
also the corn and wheat. Some of the grain being acciden- 
tally spilled in the yard, a tame pigeon flew down and picked 
it up. The brutal captain struck the bird, cutting off its 
head at a bLnv with his sword. Some of Huck's men then went 
to the barn, where Mrs. Strong's son had gone shortly before 
their arrival. He had taken his Bible with him, and was en2;aor- 
ed in reading the sacred volume. They shot him dead upon the 
spot, and dragged him out of the barn. The officers then 
began to cut and hack the dead body with their broadswords, 
till the mother rushed from the house, and threw herself upon 
the bleeding and mangled corpse, resolving to perish by the 
cruel hands of her enemies, rather than see her child cut to 
pieces before her eyes. 

On that Sabbath morning, the wife of the Rev. John 
Simpson, pastor of the church, while sitting at the breakfast 
table with her children, heard the report of the gun at her 
neighbor's. On the Friday previous, Mr. Simpson had 
shouldered his rifle and marched to the field under the com- 
mand of Capt. McClure, who had been reared from infimcy 
under his ministry. There the pastor, taking his place in 
the ranks with the brave men of York and Chester, en- 
couraged and stimulated them by his counsel no less than 
his services. lie had been marked out for vengeance, being 
supposed active in encouraging the enterprise at the Old 



186 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Field and Moblej's ; and the enemy expected to find him ob 
this occasion with his assembled congregation. 

While the destroyers were at the church, some of the 
negroes overhearing them declare their intention to go to Mr. 
Simpson's house and " burn the rascal out," hastened to carry 
information to his wife,' urging her to save herself and family 
by immediate flight. She looked out, and saw a body of men 
coming down the lane. Stopping only to gather up a set of 
silver tea-spoons, most valued as a gift from her mother, she 
took her four children and went out at the back door, conceal- 
ing herself in the orchard in the rear. Here she was enabled 
to watch the movements of her enemies, without being herself 
discovered. 

They rifled the house of everything valuable, took out four 
feather beds, and ripped them open in the yard ; collected all 
the clothing, from which they selected such articles as they 
fancied for their own keeping, and having exhausted their in- 
vention in devising mischief, finally set fire to the house, 
which was soon burned to the ground. Just as they were 
going away, they noticed an outhouse, which contained a valu- 
able library, and was usually occupied by Mr. Simpson as a 
study. This was soon also in flames. The men now left the 
premises, and as soon as they were out of sight, Mrs. Simpson 
hastened back to the house, rushed into the study and carried 
out two aprons' full of books. She could save no more, and 
in doing this, was much burned. The feathers in the yard 
had taken fire, but she succeeded in saving enough for one 
bed. She then went to the house of one of her neighbors, 
where she remained for four weeks, returning then to her own 



CHAPTER XIIV. 187 

place, and taking up her residence in a small outhouse which 
haa escaped the enemy's vengeance. Here she contrived to 
live with her five children and a young friend, receiving con- 
tinual assistance from the people of her husband's charge, but 
not yet free from depredation and danger. At one time, when 
she had procured some cloth, out of which to make clothing 
for her children, she had cut out and was making up the gar- 
ments, when a company of tories came along and plundered 
her also of these. She complained to the leader of the party, 
and he ordered his men to give them back. Some of the 
gang were dressed in Mr. Simpson's clothes, and strutting be- 
fore her, tauntingly asked if they were not better looking men 
than her husband; telling her at the same time, that they 
would one day make her a present of his scalp ! This ma- 
rauding party took off her stock of cattle. Mrs. Simpson 
begfyed them to leave her one milch cow for her little children, 
but her request was refused. The property was restored, 
however, in an unexpected manner ; after going two miles 
further on their way, the robbers put the cattle in a pen till 
morning ; two large steers broke out during the night, opening 
a way for the rest, and the whole flock returned home. 

About this time a force of volunteers and militia assembled 
under Gen. Kutherford, defeated a large party of loyalists 
under Col. Moore, at Ilamsour's Mill. This battle, though 
it was much spoken of by aged men of Rowan and Mecklen 
burg, and deserves attention as the first American victory in 
North Carolina, has not been particularly noticed by any his- 
torian. Ptutherford's cavalry, under the comiuand of Col. 
Fait, was in advance, and charged with great impetuosity. 



188 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

but was met with so much firmness by the enemy, that the 
column began to recoil. In the efi"ort to restore order the 
colonel fell from his horse mortally wounded. Col. Locke 
was rapidly advancing meanwhile with his regiment to sustain 
the charge, but the confusion in the cavalry, with riderless 
horses dashing through the ranks, caused a panic among the 
infantry. An authoritative voice called out from the midst 
of the faltering ranks — " Retreat, men, and keep good order !" 
The tories pressed on vigorously, and would have won the 
day, but for the boldness of Capt. Dickey, who in a stentorian 
voice ask-ed — " Who was the villain who ordered a retreat.?" 
threatening to shoot him instantly through the heart. He 
then called on the men to follow him and charge through the 
tory lines, already somewhat disordered from their eager pur- 
suit. The whigs rallied manfully, and rushed boldly to the 
charge, those who had no bayonets using their guns for clubs. 
Col. Fall, though near death, continued to cry out — " Fight 
on, my brave boys, I die for liberty !" The loyalists were 
completely routed, and many prisoners taken, the leader being 
captured afterwards by John Haynes, who was on guard at 
an outpost. He came with a white flag to request leave to 
visit his wounded, and was detained within the lines from fear 
that his men would renew the attack on learning how small a 
force had defeated them. 

The whigs, gaining strength every day, and watchful for 
an opportunity favorable to their return, at length passed 
down the north side of the Catawba, and formed their cainp 
near a stream called Clem's Branch, on the edge of Lancaster 
District. This district and that of Chester lay in front, be- 



CHAPTER XVII. 189 

kween tlioni and the British posts at Roclvj Mount and 
Camden. On one hand were the whigs of York, on the 
other those of Mecklenburg County, which lay on the east, 
the Catawba forming a defence on the west. No position 
could have been more judiciously selected than this in the 
heart of a whig population, and in time came encouraging re- 
inforcements. It was here that Thomas Sumter, after his 
home had been burned and his family driven out shelterless, 
when he came forth to action, found the men who had been 
chased into North Carolina, resting upon the soil of South 
Carolina ; the line of division probably passing through the 
camp. 

During the weeks they occupied this encampment, the 
patriots were not idle. Sergeant Ben. Bowan, yvith a few 
men, went back into North Carolina nearly two hundred miles, 
for the purpose of procuring lead, and drove pack-horses be- 
fore them laden each with about two hundred and fifty pounds' 
weight. Others were sent out after powder. The smiths 
were busy in every direction, manufacturing swords, and mak- 
ing and repairing those twisted rifles which did such destruc- 
tive execution in the battles of the South. 71ie active and 
enterprising John McClure, with his company of mounted 
riflemen, was constantly in the field, and others were out in 
different directions through the country, encouraging the de- 
sponding partizans, collecting recruits, and putting down the 
loyalists wherever they could. These movements annoyed 
and alarmed the British, who regarding the province as sub- 
dued, were not disposed to brook disrespect from a few 
stragglers Col. Floyd, a loyalist of York District, made 



190 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

grievous complaint at Rocky Mount, in consequence of wliich 
the commander again sent out Capt. Huck with an order to 
proceed to the frontier, and '' push the rebels." With his 
band of redcoats and tories he scoured the country, punishing 
he obnoxious, enlisting loyalists, and plundering property ; 
everywhere, it is said, cursing Presbyterians, and burning those 
Bibles which contained the old version of the psalms. In this 
second progress he visited the house of the mother of Capt. 
McClure. Her son James and a son-in-law had just returned 
from Sumter's camp. When the Biitish drew near, both were 
busily employed in running bullets, having melted up for this 
purpose their mother's pewter dishes. So occupied were they, 
that the enemy had entered the lane before they were aware 
of their presence. To escape was out of the question, but 
James climbed the wall of a new house, and perched himself 
upon some plank lying on the windbeams. Here he was soon 
discovered and brought down, and with his brother-in-law, 
taken out into the yard and searched. Their pockets were 
full of pewter bullets, furnishing proof of their murderous de- 
signs against the King's then, and the sentence was pronounced 
that they were to be hanged at sunrise on the morning of the 
12th of July. When the young men were secured, Huck step- 
ped up to Mrs. McClure, and rudely asked where were her 
other sons. She bade him seek them in Sumter's camp. 
Huck then seized the Family Bible, and threw it into the fire. 
The matron sprang forward to recover it, and succeeded in 
dragging it from the flames, though one corner of it was badly 
burned. The captain struck her with the flat of his sword 
for her interference, and the soldiers set fire to the house : 



CHAPTER XVII. 191 

I)ut the women extinguislied the flames. Otiiers were busily 
engaged in destroying her property, carrying nflf whatever ar- 
ticles it suited their inclination to take. At length they 
departed, driving their prisoners before them. 

As soon as the intruders were gone, Mrs. McClure despatch- 
ed her daughter in all haste to Sumter's camp, to cany the 
news of the outrage she had suffered and the captivity of the 
young men. The young woman made her way to the camp, 
arriving late in the evening. The Americans had heard for 
several days previous of the maich of Huck's party through the 
country, their progress being marked by cruelty and spolia- 
tion, and some from tlie vicinity had fl.'d to the camp for 
safety. The news of the capture hastened their preparations 
for the expedition against him, and just after sunset the com- 
panies of John McClure and John Bratton — the York and 
Chester men — headed by their captains and under the com- 
mand of .Col. Neil, left Sumter's camp. The distance to be 
marched was thirty miles, and from the intelligence they had 
received, it was supposed that the enemy would be found at 
White's (now Crawford's) 3Iills, engaged in grinding the 
wheat and grain they had been for several days gatherincr 
throughout the country. The little band of patriots, only 
seventy-five in number, but resolved to peril their lives in 
avenging their neigh])ois' injuiies, made directly for the mill- 
but did not find the enemy. The march was resumed, and a 
little before day they parsed the house of old Mr. Adair. 
Observing the door ajar and light shining from the fire place, 
Bratton wont up g(>ntly to th(^ door and t:ipped. The old 
man was silling up at the fire two nriti.j, offi-jn-s h:i vin- taken 



192 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION 

his bed From him they learned the disposition of the enemy 
at Williamson's. 

Hiick's party had stopped at Adair's house on their way 
to Williamson's. After they had robbed Mrs. Adair of her 
neckhandkerchief, rings and shoebuckles, and threatened to 
bang her husband, one of the officers commanded her to bring 
her sons into the King's service, promising to obtain for each 
a commission in the army. After they were gone, except the 
two officers who had quartered themselves there, Mr. and 
Mrs. Adair left the house quietly, and gained the shelter of a 
thicket , for they knew there would shortly be fighting at their 
neighbor's. These were the parents of Gov. Adair, of Ken- 
tucky, who acted so prominent a part at the battle of New 
Orleans, a third of a century afterwards. 

On the preceding evening, Huck had stopped at Col. Brat- 
ton's house and endeavored to persuade Mrs. Bratton to in- 
fluence her husband to join the royalists. On the* matron's 
indignant refusal, the tradition is, that one of his officers 
seized a reaping hook that hung in the piazza, and brought it 
to her throat. Another interfered to protect her. She was 
then ordered to prepare supper for the men, after which they 
left her dwelling. 

The troops of Huck lay encamped around Williamson's 
house. A fenced lane, along which sentinels were posted, 
passed the door. About daylight the party of Americans, hav- 
ing arranged their plan of attack, divided to enclose the enemy 

McClure taking one division, went off to enter the lane at 
the further end, where the attack was to be commenced, Neil 
and Bratton entering at the near end, to take the enemy in 



CHAPTER XVII. 193 

roar McCluro took a nigh cut, and came on the side of the 
hmo, where he threw down the fence as he leaped over. Tt 
was now f^o light that his brother James, who was confined 
with other prisoners, in a corn crib, recognized him ; but when 
the guard placed over them called out, *' Who is there r" ho 
replied, indifferently, "Oh, it is some of your tory friends." 
The drums and fifes of the enemy now began to play for 
morning parade. In an instant the sharp crack of ]McClure's 
rifle announced that his part of the game had commenced. 
Capt Iluck instantly mounted, and several times rallied his 
men ; but the determined spirit of the patriots carried all 
before them. The biief though bloody battle lasted about 
an hour. The rout was complete. Iluck and Col. Ferguson 
fell, and their soldiers fled in all directions. Col. Bratton s 
house, around which the conflict raged, was opsm to the 
wounded of both parties, and Mrs. Bratton humanely attended 
the suflferers. Mrs. Adair also came to the battle ground, and 
going to a tent where the captain, who had spoken with her 
the night before, was lying, helped to dress his wounds, and 
reminded him that he had ordered her to bring in her rebel 
sons. " Here are two of them," she said, "and if the third 
nad been within a day's ride, he would have been here also." 
The reply was — " It is a little too late." 

McC'lure, mounted at the head of hi.T men, pursued the fly- 
ing enemy for nearly thirty miles. The bushes were the only 
places of safety between Williamson's and Rocky Mount , 
many prisoners were taken in the pursuit, and some were hid 
for weeks in the woods. The eff.'ct of this victory was of 
lasting advantage. From all the surrounding country men 



194 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

flocked to Sumter's camp. It was about this time that "the 
Bloody Scout," under the notorious Col. Cunningham, was 
committing unprecedented cruelties on the inhabitants of 
Union and Spartanburg Districts. This tory acted a promi- 
nent part also in the partisan warfare of Laurens, Newberry, 
and Edgefield Districts. He was commonly called " Bloody 
Bill Cunningham." Plundering and murder were his voca- 
tion, and his ruthless band was the terror of the country. A 
nephew of Judge Gaston was inhumanly butchered in his own 
yard, where he was occupied in shelling corn. His family 
fled back to Chester, while others, repairing to Sumter's camp 
with a supply of powder, brought intelligence of " Bloody 
Bill's" whereabouts. Another of John McClure's services 
was the driving of this notorious murderer from the vicinity. 
He was sent out by Sumter in pursuit of him, and having un- 
derstood that he had crossed Broad River to the western side of 
York District, he soon struck his trail, and chased him across 
the district of Union. Cunningham fled some thirty miles 
towards Ninety-Six, and barely escaped, while four of his men 
were captured by McClure. The night he brought in these 
prisoners, Sumter broke up his camp at Clem's Branch, and 
marched down to Col. Davie's camp in the Waxhaws. 



CHAPTER XYiri. 

BATTLES OF ROCKY MOUNT AXD HANGING ROCK SURPRI9J2 

AT FISHING CREEK. 

The attention of Gen. Sumter was now directed to tho 
royal post at Rocky Blount. On the 30th of July, the 
t;-oops took up their line of march. Col. Davie, with his 
cavalry, took the road leading down the east side of the Ca- 
tawba, to harass the British outposts at Hanging Rock, while 
Sumter took the road to Landsford, crossed the river at sun- 
set, and marching all night, at sunrise next morning invested 
Rocky ]Mount. 

The daughters of Justice Gaston, near whose house they 
marched, mounted early and gallopped towards the scene of 
action. While approaching, they met two or three fugitives, 
whom they stopped, and bade them return. Whon they wa- 
vered, one of the young women cried — ^" Give us your guns, 
then, and we will stand in your places !" Tho men wheeled 
about and returned. The females busied themselves during 
the action in rendering whatever S3rvices were required ; 
helping to dress tho wounds of the soldiers, and bringing 
water to allay their thirst. The action continued a great part 
of the day; the whigs firing from behind trees and rocks at 



196 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE KEVOLUTION. 

every crevice of the log houses occupied by the enemy's gar- 
rison. Attempts were also made to set fire to the buildings 
by throwing faggots from the rocks, and by building brush- 
heaps from the rocks to the houses ; but a heavy rain put out 
the fire, and late in the evening, as it was very dark, Sumter 
drew off his men. His want of success was compensated by 
a brilliant exploit of Davie on the other side of the river, who 
had charged upon a party of cavalry on their way to succor 
Rocky Mount, and captured sixty horse. 

That night Sumter encamped on the very ground where he 
was surprised eighteen days afterwards. On the 6th of Au- 
gust he again crossed the river, marched all night, and a little 
after daylight commenced the battle of Hanging Rock. 
Hanging Rock is in Lancaster District, and remarkable not 
only for its association with that celebrated battle, but as a 
natural curiosity. On the east side of the creek many rocks 
are piled in an irregular group along the declivity of a steep 
hill. That called Hanging Rock is a single mass twenty feet 
tn diameter, which on the side nearest the stream to which it 
^ives its name, is scooped into a regular arch, under which 
several persons might be sheltered. Another boulder is 
poised on the edge of a larger rock, resembling a ship resting 
on the summit of a cliff, and looking as if a slight force would 
hurl it into the waters below. The battle ground is near this 
spot. Sumter's force, in three divisions, advanced on the 
camp of the tories under the command of Col. Morgan Bryan. 
His lines were posted on the brow of a steep hill beyond the 
creek, while the British camp lay nearly half a mile distant. 

Sumter's centre lino, led by the intrepid Capt. McClure, 



CHAPTER xvirr. J 07 

came first within the enemy's view, and received the first fire . 
The contest then ra^^ed fearfully ; bullets poured like hail , 
McClure was wounded in the thigh, but plu;zging the wound 
with wadding, dashed on in front of his men, his voice urging 
them forward heard above the din of battle and the shrieks 
of the wounded. After firing, they clubbed their guns, rushing 
into the camp and grappling with the foe. Where dead and 
wounded lay in heaps, McClure fell, pierced with several 
wounds, while at the same time his cousins, the four Gastons, 
lay bleeding around him. Some near him ran to his relief; 
but he ordered them back to the fight, and as he lay weltering 
in blood, his voice was still heard urging them on. As the 
tories fled towards the British camp, many of the whigs rush- 
ed pell-mell with them. One named Walker, hurrying along 
in their midst, was about to fire on those before him, when a 
tory close to him caught his arm, crying, " Those are on our 
side !" and then, as if struck with a sudden suspicion, asked 
*' What is that green leaf in your hat for .^" The whigs had 
taken the precaution to put each a leaf in their hats that 
morning before going into battle. The soldier pulled out the 
token, but the discovery was already mad 3 ; one of the tories 
seized his gun, the other ran a bayonet through his bunting 
shirt. Letting the weapon go, he turned and fled back. " It 
appeared to me," he said, " that they fired fifty guns after me ; 
every leap I gave, I heard something fall on the leaves which 
I took for blood, and thought I must be badly wounded, and 
would soon fall exhausted. I thought of the intolerable thirsl 
i had witnessed in those bl jeding to dj-ath, and my mouth 
began to feel parclied. I had now reached the branch, and 



198 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Ftoonod to drink. On examination I found I was not hurt, 
hut my powder horn was severely wounded, being pierced 
ilirough with a rifle ball, and having lost the greater portion 
of its contents." 

This battle was thought one of the most spirited and best 
fought actions by raw militia, — all volunteers — against British 
regulars, that took place during the war. It has not received 
due attention from American historians. The engageiuent 
lasted somewhat less than four hours, and was terminated by 
the British sounding a retreat, and sending in a Z^g with over- 
tures for a truce, to bury the dead and succor the wounded. 
McClure's command sustained the largest share of the wholo 
loss. He himself, thus stricken down in the bloom of life, 
was borne from the field to Waxhaw church, where the next 
day his mother came to nurse her gallant son. In a day or 
two the wounded were carried to Charlotte. 

The news that a strong force, under the command of Gen. 
Gates, was approaching for the relief of the Southern pro- 
vinces, gave a new impulse to the zeal of the pati-iots, and 
brouo-ht recruits to the standard of Gen. Sumter. Lord 

o 

Rawdon concentrated his forces at Camden. By the 13th of 
August Gen. Gates rested at Clermont, thirteen miles from 
that town. He fjave orders to Gen. Sumter to attack Carey 
Fort. On the 15th, Gates commenced his night march, and 
on the following day encountered the army of Lord Rawdon 
near Camden. He suifered a disastrous' defeat, and imme- 
diately retreated into North Carolina. 

The attack of Gen. Sumter on the convoy and Carey Fort 
was crowned with success, and with his three hundred prison- 



CHAPTER XVIII. K^ 

ers and forty-four wagons loaded witli munitions of war, be 
hastened to join Gen. Gates. On the way he received the 
news of his defeat, and also retreated, to place the stores he 
had captured in safety. His march was slow, for he was en- 
cumbered with prisoners and baggage-wagons — and a large 
part of his force was on foot. The march was kept up during 
the nights of the ICth and 17th ; yet it was not more than 
forty miles above Camden that he pitched his camp on the 
ill-fated morning of the 18th of August. His encampment 
was in the strono;hold of Fishino: Creek, two miles from its 
junction with the Catawba, where a bend in stream and river 
leaves a ridge of elevated ground between them, from wliich 
both can be seen. In front and rear of this space deep ravines 
run from the river and the creek, leaving a narrow strip along 
which the road passes, while below, the road left the ridge and 
entered a valley with steep hills on either side. In this strong 
position, guarded by the Catawba on the cast, and the creek 
on the west, the army feared no eu'^my's approach. 

When the army halted and struck their tents, the guard, 
being mounted, repaired to their posts. The men in the 
camp who had no duty to do, and were not too hungry, were 
soon fast asleep in their tents, having had no rest for two 
nights. Some were engaged in slaughtering beeves, and every 
tew moments the crack of a rifle might be heard, while some 
were cooking before the tents. The sentinels posted down 
the road towards the ford of the creek, were marching up and 
down the line appointed, while others of the guard made for 
the river, desirous of a bath, as the weather was oppressively 
warm, and intending to be back at the station in time to take 



-?.00 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

iheir turn. The British, under Tarleton, meanwhile, came 
dp the road from the stream unperceived, and found none to 
dispute their advance. Each dragoon had a foot soldier 
Hiounted behind him, and these dismounted near the camp. 
The first intimation given of their approach, was a general fire 
from Tarleton"'s dragoons, instantly followed by a bold charge 
into the midst of the "camp. 

In front, a short distance from the tents, Mrs. Peay, of 
Fairfield District, was seated upon a log feeding her two chil- 
dren. Her husband had gone into North Carolina after Gates' 
defeat, to join his force, and she, having to leave home because 
her neighbors were loyalists, thought it safest to travel with 
the army. She had with her a negro boy and two horses. 
As she sat upon the log, the British dragoons charged past 
her, and she would have been run over had not the lot? been 
largo and furnished with branches, so that they were obliged 
to pass round it. With the assault, resistance and endeavors 
to escape, the wildest confusion ensued. She sat still, her 
eyes fixed on the terrible spectacle, and saw the defenceless or 
slumbering men shot down or cut to pieces, till she turned 
sickening from the scene of massacre. See saw a few of the 
regulars rallying behind the wagons, and retuining the fire, 
and presently the bullets whistling near brought her to her re- 
collection. Slipping down from the log, she pulled the child- 
dren after her, and kept them close by her side till the firing 
ceased. When the British left the ground they took her ser- 
vant and horses, and she was left with her children, alone with 
the dead and wounded Next day she went with the little 
ones, who were crying for bread, to the house of a tory living 



CHAPTER xvni. 201 

in the neigliborhood, to beg some food for them, l^c coolly 
told her there was the poach orchard, and she might take what 
she vranted ; it was good enough for a rebel. 

Gen. Sumter had stripped oif his coat and boots, for he 
was in need of repose, and was lying fast asleep in big 
marquee. In the moment of alarm Capt. SteePs first thought 
was for him. Regardless of his own safety, he ran directly 
to the marqu'^e, caught Sumter in his arms, and had carried 
him out through the back part of the tent before he was fully 
awake. He also seized the pormanteau in which, as he knew, 
valuable public papers wore carried, and brought it with him. 
He bore the General to a horse ready saddled, and hastily 
assisted him to mount, bareheaded as he was. His rangers 
were already mounted and clustering round him, and under 
their protection he brought Sumter through a shower of bul- 
lets, while in all directions abound them the soldiers were 
running, as many as could catch horses mounting and making 
off. SteePs party was hotly pursued ; but whenever the 
British came too near, the rangers would wheel suddenly and 
fire upon them. As the foremost dragoons fell, their horses 
running loose were caught and mounted by the flying soldiers, 
and this proving a losing business, they soon abandoned the 
pursuit and returned to the disordered camp. One of Steel's 
company, a noble-looking youth of eighteen, rode up by tli;) 
side of Sumter, took off his hat, and with a gesture of grace- 
ful courtesy, presented it to the General, tying a handkerchiel 
round his own head. 

x\t the time of the surprise, it is supposed that botweeii 

one and two hundred young men were bathing in the river 
9' 



202 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The dragooHs, pursuing those who fled, came in among them, 
and an indiscriminate slaughter ensued. One had bis hair 
-'=.ut with a bullet, and was so stunned he would have been 
arowned, had not another dragged him upon a rock. Three 
were making for the opposite bank, when one of them called 
out that he was shot. His companions dragged him to a rock, 
and then hid themselves till the Biitish had left the river. 
Many of the soldiers stood on the east bank of the river with 
no covering from the burning sun. Some of them went to 
the house of McMeans, whose wife gave them all her husband's 
clotlies, and even exhausted her own wardrobe ; so that more 
than one of the survivors of that disastrous day went home in 
petticoats ! 

Ben Rowan, " the boxer of the army," heard the firing of 
the sentinels in the direction of the creek, but supposed it to 
be the killing of beeves a little further from the camp. He 
was startled by the enemy's broadside, and seeing in an in- 
stant that all was lost, ran for safety to the place where the 
three hundred prisoners were under guard. They were shout- 
ing for joy and flinging up their hats, when with his Hercu- 
lean strength he forced himself a pathway through and over 
them. Just as he got through them, he saw a loose horse 
grazing, and flung himself upon the animal without saddle or 
bridle, slapping first with one hand and then with the other to 
direct his course. The horse went off at a brisk pace through 
the woods, and Ben made good his escape,. to be an actor in 
every subsequent battle of the South. 

Joel McClemore, as he ran through the camp, picked up a 
rifle, not Knowing if it were loaded or not ; he was presently 



THAPTER XVIII. 203 

pursntd by a dragoon, and after dodging from tree to tree 
for some time, got near the fence and succeeded in crossing it. 
It then occurred to him that the open fiehl was not so safe as 
the woods in case of continued pursuit, and turning round, he 
said to the dragoon, in his Virginia vernacuhir, "I'll eat fire 
if you cross that fence but I'll shoot you !" The dragoon put- 
spurs to his horse, and as he leaped Joel drew trigger at a 
venture. The gun went off, and the man fell, while the horse 
leaped the fence. Joel lost no time in mounting, and thus 
escaped with a fine horse, holster and pistols. A few regulars 
who contended for a time behind the wao;ons acjainst over- 
powering numbers, were forced to yield. Everywhere up the 
river and creek the woods were full of men flying for their 
lives, while some who escaped butchery were driven back to 
the camp by the trooj*^rs. 

The prisoners were placed under a strong guard, having to 
do without dinner as well as breakfast, with the pi'ospect of the 
gibbet before many who had taken British protection, when 
they should reach Camden. Tarlcton renjained master of 
the field of slaughter, for it could not bo called a battle. 15y 
his order the wagons for which they could not find horses were 
collected together and consumed, with such articles as could 
not conveniently be taken away. Long before sunset the 
British commenced their return march towards Camden, leav- 
ing the dead unburied, and the wounded who could not bo 
removed, to perish. The march was continued several hours 
after dark. Some of the prisoners effected their escape by 
dropping off on the way and lying down till they were passed. 

The scattered men of Sumter's army with one accord made 



204 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

their way to Charlotte, as if that destination had been previ- 
ously appointed. Those who went home stayed only long 
enough to procure such articles of clothing a? they had lost, 
and went on. They might be seen the next day upon every 
road leadino; towards Charlotte. Sumter himself went on the 
^ame night. 

Capt. Berry, who with some of his men had escaped after 
the defeat of Cen. Catcs, on the night of the 17th wandered 
up the river as far as George Wade's house.* Wade, who 
came home in the night, gave him three hundred pounds ot 
flour for his soldiers, and informed him that Cen. Sumter 
would be on the other side of the rivc^r the next morn- 
ing. Berry crossed the next day with his command, and had 
not been an hour in camp before the surprise took place, in 
which he was captured ; thus leaving one disastrous field to 
meet misfortune in another. 

* A record of the niiiitary movements of this time is extant in a 
manuscript writt^a by George Wade, then one of the wealthieet 
planters on the Catawba. 



CHAPTER XIX, 

eURPRISE OF STEEL CONDITION OF THE COaNTRY. 

While Gen. Sumter proceeded to Charlotte after the sur- 
prise, Capt. Steel returned by bis order, witb some fifteen 
men. His business was to collect recruits, and send them to 
join the General, who intended to rally his forces at Charlotte. 
On this mission he traversed the country day and night. 
Another object was to find the valise containing the public- 
papers, which had been dropped by the man to whose care it 
was entrusted, shortly after they left the camp, and was sup- 
posed to be lost somewhere in the woods. Steel recovered it 
from a tory who had found and carrijd it to Watoree Creek. 
On his way back he chanced to meet the wife of one of his 
acquaintances, and stopped to bid her tell her husband that all 
patriots were summoned to meet their General at Charlotte, 
and that he must come and join him the next morning at 
N'eely's on Fishing Creek, whence he could go on with his 
party. He was not aware that the man to whom he sent this 
message had turned loyalist. The woman, of coiirso, imme- 
diately carried the news to her husbanil, who set out to colL^ct 
tories for the purpose of interc 'pting Capt. Stei>I, travelling 



206 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

all night through the neighborhood, for the attack was to be 
at Neely's on the following morning. 

Meanwhile the brave captain, suspecting no treachery, 
reached his home late that night, and once more embra-cedthe 
excellent mother who had trained him to his present career of 
duty. Early the next morning he set off for Neely's, about 
four miles distant, Mrs. Steel accompanying him on horseback 
When they arrived, Mrs. Necly and her daughters imme- 
mediately busied themselves in preparing breakfast. The 
horses were hitched to trees in the yard, and two other daugh- 
ters of the landlady went out into the cornfield to keep watch. 
All was silent for some time ; at Length a man named Lock- 
art left the premises, followed by a young lad, to get his 
horse from the pasture. While going through the field, he 
saw a body of tories, in two divisions, approaching through the 
standing corn. The leader, whom he recognized as one of 
his near neighbors and a noted loyalist, waved his hand at 
him in token that he should keep silence. Lockart paid no 
heed to the signal, but halloed with all his might to give the 
alarm at the house. Thereupon another of the advancing 
party snapped his gun at him ; Lockart then taking deliberate 
aim at the leader, fired and cut off his bridle reins, crippling 
one of his fingers, and stopping not to see the effect, turned 
and fled precipitately. In his flight ho fell into a deep gully, 
which probably saved him, for the tories' shots passed over 
him as he lay still. The leader's horse in the meantime takino^ 
fi'ight, ran away with him before he could recover his control 
^f the bridle. This accident in all likelihood saved the party 
Tt the house. 



CHAPTER xrx. 207 

Mrs. Steel was engaged at the time in combing the cap- 
cu-in's hair. He boasted a remarkably fine head > f hair ; it 
was very long and of raven blackness, and was usually worn 
lied in a queue behind. John's important services to the 
s^hig caus^, employing him both night and day, had of late 
left him little leisure for attention to his locks ; they had been 
lung uncombed, and probably showed very plainly the neglect 
they had experienced. The personal appearance of her son 
was a matter of pride to the matron, only less than her de- 
light in his gallant conduct. While thus occupied, they heard 
the sharp crack of the rifle, followed immediately by Lockart's 
warning shouts, and the screams of the young girls who had 
been stationed in the field. In a moment after, several guns 
were fired in quick succession, and the girls were seen runninor 
towards the house, while the two divisions of the enc\ny, ui u-o 
great distance behind them, could be perceived advancing 
through the standing corn. Not an instant was to be lost ; 
yet such was the effect of sudden surprise on the brave men 
who, only two days before, had been taken unawares on Pish- 
ing Creek, that they seemed utterly at a loss what to do. Mrs. 
Steel alone retained perfect self-possession. Starting up, she 
called to them, " You must fight .'".but directly, seeing the 
confusion that prevailed, she shouted an order for them to 
'' clear themselves" as fast as possible. She urged her son to 
mount his horse at once, and save the public papers in his 
charge, while she pulled down the bars to let out him and his 
men. John was quick in all his movements, and it may easily 
De conceived that no time was wasted. First in the saddle, 
he spurred his noble horsa towards the bars, which he cleared 



2'"VS DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

.tt a bound — ^his mother having had no time yet to let them 
down — and galloped off. He was followed by the greater 
number of his men, for whom Mrs. Steel removed the bars as 
fast as she could ; some, however, were slower m getting off, 
and paid the penalty of their delay, being now ezposed to the 
fire of the advancing tories. 

About fifty guns were discharged at the bars, and two of 
the whigs fell dead from their horses, bearing Mrs. Steel 
under them to the ground. One who could not get his horse, 
in leaping had part of his foot shot off. Another's hunting- 
shirt filling with the wind as he rode, was riddled through and 
through with bullets that missed his body. Capt. Steel, de- 
termined to cut his way through the assailants, rode foremost 
up the lane at full speed, his long hair, unfastened, streamino- 
in the wind, his rifle in one hand, held high above his head in 
defiance of the foe. He was closely followed by those of his 
company who had escaped. The tories, startled by the fury 
of their onset, gave way and scattered from the road, nor were 
they able to rally till the fugitives were beyond their reach. 
The whigs who were taken prisoners were carried to Camden ; 
one or two died in the jail there, while others languished for 
seven months, suffering incredible cruelties. 

Meanwhile the first thought of Mrs. Steel, as she struo-sled 
to release herself from the weight of the dead bodies, rising from 
the ground covered with their blood, her dress pierced in dif- 
ferent places with bullet holes — was for " John and the 
papers." When she heard they were safe, she burst into an 
exclamation of thankfulness, and as she was fortunately un- 
hurt, turned her attention to the relief of others. The 



CHAPTER XIX. 209 

toiies, eni-aged at their disappoiiitine.}t, witli one accord 
turned their course to Mrj. Steel's house. This they burned 
tu the ground, and destroyed her property of every descrlp- 
tioQ, wherever th-y could find anything belonging to her. 

The captain often related this adventure, and said that 
while flying along the lane with his hair streaming, he thought 
of Absalom, and vowed, if he escaped his fate while passing 
r.nder the trees, to sacrifice the hair which had brought him 
into such peril. A youth in his company who also wore his 
hair in a queue, had it cut off by a rifle ball as he leaped the 
bars. The vow he then made was different from the captain's ; 
for he resolved to wear it long while he lived, in defiance of 
British or tories, and religiously kept his resolution for more 
than half a century. 

While the men flying from the disastrous field of Gen. 
Gate-s' defeat, were continually coming to Charlotte, and pass- 
ino- on, the gallant Capt. McClure was approaching the termi- 
nation of his brief and brilliant career. The hero drew his 
last breath in Liberty TIall — the room in whicli the Mecklen- 
burg Declaration was penned by Dr. Brevard — probably at the 
verv hour when his compatriots under Sumter were routed 
fifty miles below. At the time there was a report that the 
British were coming, and everybody was leaving Charlotte. 
It was proposed to bury the corpse without a coffin, but his 
mother insisted on having him decently interred. 

There wore no men to render the last offices to the 
dead on the field of Sumpter's defeat, and it devolved upon 
the women to go down to the battle ground and see 
that they received sepulture. Mary Johnston, accom 



210 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

panied by Miss McClure, went the same night to Justice 
Gaston's, and found at home only the Justice, Mrs. Gaston 
and their granddaughter, Margaret McCreary. The house 
had been plundered of everything, and that night the 
aged couple slept upon cowhides, the two young women and 
Margaret occupying hides stretched on the noor. The next 
morning they prevailed on Margaret to accompany them to 
the field. As they drew near the spot of the disaster, with a 
natural reluctance to go alone where they must encounter so 
appalling a spectacle, they called at the house of a loyalist, 
and with some difficulty persuaded him to accompany them. 
Mrs. Johnston found the corpse of her father, hastily buried. 
Some of the bodies lay uncovered, and several were slightly 
covered with earth, which the hogs had partly rooted away. 
Many of the women went to Charlotte to carry clothes and 
provisions to their friends. On their return, they were met 
by anxious inquiries from those who were uncertain as to the 
fate of their kindred. They also carried supplies to Camden, 
whither the unfortunate prisoners had been conveyed, driving 
pack-horses laden with the different articles. One Mary Gill, 
on a journey thither with a friend, chanced to stop for the 
night at a small cabin in the pine woods. She had suspicions 
of the place, which were confirmed when she saw a man go 
out at the back door as they asked admittance ; but they were 
unable to go further, and concluded to avail themselves of the 
shelter. She determined, however, to keep watch, and tying 
her horse to the hasp of the door, she seated herself on the 
step, holding the reins in her hand. A tory within the 
cabin, not long afterwards, having parched some corn on the 



CHAPTER XIX. 211 

hearth, invited her with much importunity to come and 
take some. She left the horse for a moment to do so ; but on 
returning to the door fouud the rope cut and the horse gone 
She chai-ged the tory with having a hand in this piece of vil- 
lany, and being of masculine strength, threatened to punish 
him ; but he protested his innocence, and her companion in- 
terceded for him. On her arrival at Camden, Miss Gill com- 
plained to a British officer, who promised to attend to the 
matter ; but the horse was never recovered. 

One striking instance of devotion and heroism should be 
mentioned. Thomas McCalla, a soldier in Capt. Steel's com- 
pany, had been taken a prisoner to Camden. For a month his 
wife could obtain no tidings of him. In the midst of her dis- 
tress, her children fell ill with the small-pox— that dreadful 
scourge of the whole country— and after their recovery she 
determined to go to Camden to seek her husband. Having 
set her house in order, she was in the saddle long before day, 
taking the road leading down on the west side of the Catawba. 
The mountain gap on Wateree Creek was passed ere the sun 
rose, and by two o'clock she had crossed the river, pass- 
ing the guard there stationed, and entered Camden. Desirin(r 
to be conducted to the presence of Lord Rawdon, she was 
escorted by Major Doyle to the head-quarters of that com- 
mander, who then occupied a large ancient-looking house on 
the east side of the main street. 

Her impression at first sight was favorable ; he was a fine- 
looking young man, with a countenance not unprepossessing. 
Being desired to explain the object of her visit, she pleaded 
liQr cause with the eloquence of nature and feeling ; makin^r 



212 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

known the distressed situation of her family at home, the 
anxiety of mind she had suffered on account of the absence 
of her husband and her ignorance of his fate, and her urgent 
need of his care and protection. From Major Doyle she had 
at length learned that he was held a prisoner by his lordship's 
orders. She had come, therefore, to entreat mercy for him ; 
to pray that he might be released and permitted to go home 
with Iier. 

Ijord Rawdon heard her to the end. His reply was — " I 
would rather hang such rebels than eat my breakfast," This 
insulting speech was addressed to his suppliant while her eyes 
were fixed on him in the agony of her entreaty, and the tears 
were streaming down her cheeks. His words dried up the 
fountain at once, the spirit of an American matron was 
roused, and she turned on hiin a look of the deepest scorn. 
A moment after, with a struggle to control her feelings, she 
said, " I crave of your lordship permission to see my hus- 
band." Doyle now interposed, and requested his lordship to 
stop with him into another apartment. When they returned, 
Kawdon said to his visitor, with a stately coldness — " Major 
Doyle, madam, has my permission to let you go into the prison. 
You may continue in the prison ten minutes only. Major, 
you have my orders." So saying, he bowed politely both to 
her and the officer, as intimating that the business was ended, 
and they were dismissed. They accordingly quitted the room. 

Thus ended the interview from which she had hoped so 
much. What had been granted seemed a mockery rather 
than an alleviation of her sorrow. But even this indulgence, 
the Major informed her, had been reluctantly granted at his 



CHAPTER XIX. 213 

earnest intercession ; :uul lie tnok occasion to blame her o^n 
I'xl.ibition of spirit. " It was with great difficult v,** 
h.' observed, " that T got this permission for you. His 
lordship said, ' She can cry, and I believe she can fight, too ! 
did you see what a look she gave me ? Major, such a woman 
might do harm ; she must not be permitted to pass and re- 
pass, unless some one of the officers is with her. She must 
stay only ten minutes, and it must be in your presence.' "" 

The sight of the prison-pen almost overcame the fortitude 
of the resolute wife. An inclosure like that constructed for 
animals, guarded by soldiers, was the habitation of the unfor- 
tunate prisoners, who sat within on the bare earth, many of 
them suffering with the prevalent distemper, and stretched 
on the ground, with no shelter from the burning sun of Septem- 
ber. *•' Is it possible," cried she, turning to Doyle, " that you 
shut up men in this manner, as you would a parcel of hogs !'• 
She was then admitted into the jail, and welcome indeed was 
the sight of her familiar face to McCalla. When the ten 
minutes had expired, she again shook hands with him, assur- 
ing him she would shortly return with clothes for his use, and 
what provisions she could bring ; then turning, she walked away 
with a firm step, stopping to shake hands with young John 
Adair and the other captives with whom she was acquainted. 
The word of encourao-cment was not wantins;, and as she bade 
the prisoners adieu, she said, " Have no fear ; the women are 
doing their part of the service." "I admire youi spirit, 
madam," Doyle observed to her, " but njust request you to be 
a little more cautious." 

Mrs. McCalla was furnished by the i\l;ijor with a pass, 



214 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

M-hich she showed to the officer on duty as she passed the 
gaard on her return, and to the officer at the ferry. She 
rode with all speed, and was at home before midnight ; having 
had less than twenty-four hours for the accomplishment of 
Lor whole enterprise ; in that time riding one hundred miles, 
crossing the river twice, and passing the guard four times 
It is proper to say that she met with kind treatment from 
other British officers at this time, for they were favorably im 
pressed by her courage and strength of affection. Even the 
soldiers, as she passed them, paid her marks of respect. The 
iories alone showed no sympathy nor pity for her trials; it be- 
♦ng constantly observed that there was deeper hostility towards 
the whigs on the part of their countrymen of different politics, 
than those of English birth. 

Mrs. McCalla began her work immediately after her arrival 
at home : makinni; new clothes, alterina; and mendino; others, 
and preparing the provisions. Her preparations being com- 
pleted, she again set out for Camden. This time she had 
the company of one of her neighbors, Mrs. Nixon, whose bro- 
ther, John Adair, has been mentioned as among the prisoners. 
Each of the women drove before her a pack-horse, laden with 
the articles provided for the use of their suffering friends. 
From this time she made her journeys about once a month, 
carrying clean clothes and provisions ; being often accom- 
panied by other women bound on similar errands, and convey- 
ing articles of food and clothing to their captive fathers, 
husbands and brothers. 

One of the patriotic efforts of the women of Fishing Creek 
neio-hborhood is worth remembrance. The rich lands were 



CHAPTER XIX. 215 

well adapted for the prrowth of wheat, which was extensively 
cultivated by the ' Pennsylvania Irish' sjttlcrs. The har- 
vest was in June ; but all th3 in?.n able to bear arms havini; 
takiu the field, none reinaiuid to secure the crop, on which 
the support of their families depended. The young women, 
with spirit equal to that of thoir gallant brothers, formed a 
company of reapers for cutting and garnering the grain 
They went day after day from one farm to another, and 
reaped the crop with the assistance of th3 matrons and a few 
old men. The only question they asked was, " Is the owner 
out with the fighting men ?" and an affirmative answer was 
sufficient to engage them at once in th3 labor. It was no 
small undertaking, five or six weeks of unceasing toil being 
necessary to gather in the harvest througli the country. It 
seemed that Providence smiled on the ginerous enterprise ; 
there were no storms during that period to ravage the fields, 
and it was related for years afterwards as very remarkable, 
that some of the crops of 1780 were secured several weeks 
after the grain was fully ripe. Scarcely was the work ac 
coraplished, before British and tories were plundering every 
where and laying waste the country, determined to vanquish 
the spirit of resistance by distressing rebel families. 

During the summer, families through the country, near the 
Bcene of warfare, lived chiefly on roasted corn, without bread, 
meat, or salt. Hickory ashes were used, with a small quan- 
tity of salt, for preserving beef when it could be had. Leather 
shoes were replaced by woollen rags sewed round the foot, and 
of beds and bedding nothing was left. The beds were gene- 
rally ripped open by the depredators, the feathers scattered 



116 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTIOM. 

and tlio ticking used for tent cloths. Tiie looms were robbeJ 
of the cloth found in them ; and hence the females of the 
country resorted to various expedients to manufocture cloth- 
ing, and preserve it for their own and their friends' use. A 
family living on Pacolet River built a loom between four trees 
in the forest, and wove in fair weather, covering the loom and 
weh with cow-hides when it rained. On one occasion, when 
the whigs had obtained a quantity of salt by taking a fort, it 
was sent up by wagons to York District, to be distributed by 
pecks among the widows of those who had fallen in battle. 
The women went on horseback for their pecks. At another 
time, one rode eighty miles for a bushel, concealing the guinea 
appropriated for the purchase, in the hair braided on the top 
of her head. 

Not only did the labors of the field devolve on the women 
during this period, but they frequently had to devise means 
of assisting or sheltering the hunted whigs. Their friends 
could not venture on a visit home without watching their op- 
portunity. North of Fishing Creek settlement lay the black- 
jack region, at that time an open prairie, on which persons 
could be seen at a great distance. The patriots coming to 
visit their families, always endeavored to pass over this plain 
by night, though to do so, they were often under the necessity 
of lying by all day. As they approached their homes, they 
usually discovered some signal hung out by the women, by 
which they understood whether or not they could enter their 
houses with safety. 

The whigs concealed as much of their property as they 
could ; sometimes depositing grain for the use of their families 



CHAPTER xrx. 217 

m the barns of kind-hearted loyalists. A cave, still to be 
seen in a deep ravine on Rocky Creek, was a place of deposit 
for many articles, hidden from the cruel marauders who took 
advantage of the state of confusion to plunder helpless fami- 
lies. Gangs of robbers went about through the country, and 
it might truly be said that spoliation and murder were the 
order of the d:iy. "Well ran the old song — 

'' Carohna, South and North, 
W.VS fillrdwith pain and woe; 
'I'lie iDiiei took uit;ir Lcighbors' worttu 
Ami au'uy A whi;j inust go.'' 



10 



'Ml AFTER XX. 



MOUNTAIN- — RLACKSTOCKS .STATE OF CHARLESTON 

AND THE COUNTRY 

The late succession of 'lisast'U'a had complotojy prostrated 
the country's rising hopes liuh the fLark hour was the har- 
binger of brighter prospects j far up among the mountains 
were gathered bands of patriots, ere long to descend like the 
mountain torrent from their heights. It is said that more 
than three thousand were collected at Gilberttown, Rutherford, 
North Carolina. In September, Lord Cornwallis despatched 
Col. Ferguson to the frontier, to sweep the country, and en- 
courage the loyalists to take up arms. A number of aban- 
doned outlaws hung around his camp, committing depredations 
and cruelties wherever they passed ; robbing whigs of their 
negroes, horses, cattle, and every valuable article of property 
The militia of the country assembled to interrupt their march, 
and several skirmishes took place between the straggling par- 
ties. 

One battle of considerable importance was fought in Spar- 
tanburg District, at the "Green Spring." About two hun- 
dred men, commanded by Col. Clarke, of ^he Georgia volun- 



CHAPTER XX. Iil9 

tcers, havin£^ recoivcd intelligence that a larger body of tory 
militia was recruiting for the horso. service, undjr the com- 
mand of Ferguson, determined to attempt to rout li'em. The 
Americans stopped for refreshment at the house of Capt. 
Dillard, who was with them as a volunteer, and wore enter- 
tained with milk and potatoes. They marched on, hearing 
that a scouting party was in advance of Ferguson's station, 
and encamped for the night at Green Spring. The same 
evening Ferguson, with a party, arrived at Dillard's, and made 
inquiries respecting Clarke and his men. Mrs. Dillard replied 
that they had been gone a long time, and at the bidding of 
the officers prepared supper. Going to and from the kitchen, 
she overheard much of their conversation, and ascertained 
that they knew where Clarke was encamped, and were to pur- 
sue him, with a view to a surprise, as soon as they had taken 
their meal. No time was to be lost. She hurried the supper, 
and as soon as the officers had sat down, slipped out by a back 
way. Late and dark as it was, her determination was to go 
herself and apprise Clarke of his danger, in the hope of being 
in time for him to make a safe retreat ; for she believed that 
the enemy were too numerous to justify a battle. 

She went to the stable, bridled a young horse, and without 
saddle, mounted and rode with all possible speed to the place 
described. It was about half an hour before day when she 
came in full gallop to one of the videtteH, by whom she was 
immediately conducted to Col. Clarke. She called to th« 
colonel, breathless with eagerness and haste, " Be m readi 
ness either to fight or run ; the enemy will be upon you im- 
mediately, and they are strong !" 



220 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

In an instant every man was up, and no moments were lost 
in preparing for action. The intelligence came just in time 
to put the vrhigs in readiness. Ferguson had detached Dun- 
lap, with two hundred picked mounted men, to engage Clarke 
ind keep him employed till his arrival. Thesf rushed in full 
eharge into the American camp ; but the surprise was on their 
part. I'hey were met hand to hand, with a firmness they had 
not anticipated. Their confusion was increased by the dark- 
ness, which rendered it hard to distinguish friend from foe. 
The battle was warm for fifteen or twenty minutes, when the 
tories gave way. 

Col. Ferguson hastened to secure himself an advantageous 
position for contending with the mountaineers collected to 
oppose him. He left one of his men concealed in the cellar 
of a house on the road side, whose business it was to ascertain 
the number and character of those who were pressing on his 
Tear. This spy making himself rather conspicuous, was taken 
by the pursuing whigs, and forced to give the information they 
desired. The practice among their riflemen of pickmg off 
the officers in an engagement, had produced much confusion 
in the British ranks, and it being known to the leaders, some 
bad adopted the expedient of disguising themselves before 
going into action. This prisoner wag asked if Ferguson went 
to battle in disguise, and said, " He has a large check shirt 
which he wears over his uniform." This information being 
spread among the soldiers, it is easy to account for th^ fact 
that Col. Ferguson was shot through the arm at the com- 
mencement of the battle of King's Mountain ; his fine white 



CHAPTER XX, 221 

hrrs.Q being seen not long after, 'laslilng down the Lill without 
& rider. 

While the " liberty men," of the frontier districts had fled 
to the mountains, the women, busily occupied in the labors of 
the house and fijld, were harassed by visits from marauding 
loyalists. A notorious robber, one Edmund. Russell, was 
known to have his retreat at Sandy River. After the battle 
of King's Mountain, a party of twenty whigs, headed by 
William White, went in quest of him. White had ventured 
home to see how matters were going on, and finding his wife 
and sisters in the field with a basket of wheat which they 
were beginning to sow, he alighted from his horse to show 
them " the cast of the hand," as he called it, — not venturing 
more, for he knew his movements were watched. The enemy 
heard, indeed that he " was at home sowing wheat," and sent 
men to capture him after he had gone after Russell. 

The robber, afraid to live above ground, had made himself 
a den in the earth some distance from his house, where he had 
provisions brought to him. This din was in the woods, and 
60 covered as to be undistino-uishable from the o;round aboY9 
it. When the whigs were approaching his house they met 
two children carrying a bottle of milk, but could obtain from 
them no information as to his whereabouts. One of the party 
suddenly exclaimed — " Here is smoke issuing from the 
ground ;" and presently Russell sprang out and ran away. 
Fear lent him wings, but it was of no avail, seventeen guns 
being fired at liim in rapid succession. 

The battle of King's Mountain was soon followed by the 
retreat of Lord Cornwallis fom Charlotte to Winnsboro 



222 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The militia, of the country took toll as the British army passGfli 
at every suitable thicket ; a single whig sometimes riding up, 
picking off his object, and making good his escape. Col. 
Tarleton for a short time halted his legion at White's Mills on 
Fishing Creek, midway between Charlotte and Winnsboro, on 
a lookout for the mountain men on their return from the scene 
of the battle. Cornwallis encamped on the plantation of John 
Service, a shrewd fellow, who succeeded in making the British 
commander believe him an idiot. On being told his lordship's 
name, he asked " if he was related to John Wallis the sho3- 
maker up the road." Lord Cornwallis gave orders that not- 
thing of the simpleton's should be molested. 

On the 12th of November, Col. Wemyss, who attacked 
Sumter's band of volunteers, was defeated and taken prisoner. 
After this action, Gen. Sumter, aware that Tarleton had been 
despatched in pursuit of hira, with a view to another sur- 
prise like that on Fishing Creek — made a hasty retreat, and 
took up his position at Blackstock's, near Tyger River. On 
the retreat he sent Col. Taylor, with a detachment of fifty 
moD, to fetch flour from a mill in the vicinity. Taylor ex- 
pe'^ited the General to remain where he was till his return ; but 
shortly after his departure information was brought of the 
near approach of Tarleton's cavalry, and Sumter moved off to 
secure his position. Taylor knew nothing of Tarleton's ap- 
proach, and was not a little displeased when he returned with 
the flour and did not find the General. His men were hun- 
gry, and he allowed two or three hogs to be cleaned and cook- 
ed, and some of the flour made into bread. While the sol- 
diers were baking the bread, in the fashion of Johnnycake, on 



CHAPTER XX. 223 

pieces of pine bark, two officers who had been sent back by 
Sumter to watch the enemy's movements, dashed up in fie^-y 
haste to bring the news that Tarleton was just at hand, Tbj 
hogs and the dough were thrown into the wagon uncooked, 
and the men drove the wagon into camp at a full gallop. As 
they turned the corner of a little stable the firing coramence'\ 
In this action Sumter received a severe wound, and w-as cai- 
ried on a litter the same night into North Carolina. Capt. 
Steel returned home in November, and by the aid of his ran- 
gers, reduced his neighborhood to order, organizing the militia, 
bringing some of the tories to trial and execution for murder, 
driving others of the worst from the country, and pardoning 
less culpable oifonders who promised reformation. The con- 
dition of the times demanded such summary measures ; a 
fatal disease threatened destruction to the body of the state, 
and it needed a sharp weapon and an unshrinking hand to 
eradicate it. 

The deplorable sufferings of the unfortunate prisoners m 
Charleston had moved the sympathy of the people of Western, 
Carolina ; for news came that many were perishing of want 
and disease. The men could not go thither ; but the women 
gathered clothing, medicines, and provisions, and travelled 
long journeys, encountering danger as well as hardship, to 
minister to them. The mother of Andrew Jackson, return- 
ing to the Waxhaws, after a journey to Charleston to carry 
clothing and other necessaries to some friends on board the 
prison ship, was seized with the prison fever, and died in a 
tent, in the midst of the wide, sandy wilderness of pines. She 
a-od her children had quitted their home after the slaughter 



224 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTIDN. 

of Buford's regiment, when tlie women and cliildren fled from 
the ravages of the merciless enemy, and had found a place of 
xefugc in Sugar Creek congregation, where they remained 
during part of the summer. 

In Charleston many cruelties were exercised, not only on 
t'..3 imprisoned soldiers, but on the unoffending inhabitants — 
women and children. The patriotic ladies refused to join in 
the amusements of the city while in the hands of the British ; 
but gave their energi iS to the relief of their friends, being the 
more active when military effoits were suspended. Many and 
ingenious were the contrivances they adopted, to carry sup- 
plies to the defenders of their country. Sometimes cloth for 
a coat, fashioned into an appendage to female attire, would be 
borne away, unsuspected by the vigilant guards, and after- 
wards converted into regimental shape. Boots, '■ a world too 
wide" for the delicate wearer, were often transferred to f:he 
partisan who could not procure them for himself. A horse- 
man's helmet has been concealed under a well-arranged head- 
dress ; and epaulettes delivered from the folds of a matron's , 
simple cap. Other articles in demand for military use, as 
feathers and cockades, more easily conveyed, were regularly 
brought by some stratagem or oher. 

Mr. Simms says, " The women would often procure 
passes to go to their farms or plantations in the country. 
They seized these occasions for carrying forth supplies of 
cloth, linen, and even gunpowder and shot, to their countrymen 
in the brigade of Marion. These commodities were concealed 
beneath their garments ; and, in preparation for their depart- 
ure, the dimensions of the good women were observed sensi- 



CHAPTER XX. 225 

bly to increase. At length it was noticed by the officers on 
guard, that the lady, who when she left the city was of enor- 
mous bulk, would return reduced to a shadow. Strange sus- 
picions naturally ran in their heads as to the causes of a 
change so surprising; at length a jury of spinsters was pro- 
vided, and the fat ladies were taken into custody. The dis- 
covery was amazing ; bales of blue broadcloth were unrolled 
from about the slenderest waists ; and swan and duck shot, 
and gunpowder and ball, rolls of duck, cotton flannels, &c., 
appeared from beneath the ample petticoats. This put a stop 
to their growth, as well as their peregrinations." 

One lady who visited the city relates in her letters that she 
went on board the prison ship, and drank coffee with the pri- 
soners awaiting an exchange. Another was accustomed to 
wear a bonnet decorated with thirteen small plumes, as a token 
of her attachment to republican principles. Some would not 
attend church, as they had been accustomed, in the city, while 
prayers were offered there for the success of the British arms. 
It might have been said of many female patriots who evinced 
zeal in support of the cause which then appeared the worse, 
that they appeared to consecrate every thought to the interests 
of America. They received under their hospitable roof the 
sick and wounded, gave them their personal attention and sym- 
pathy ; and divided of their substance among those who needed 
aid. The prisoners were visited at regular intervals and favors 
were solicited in their behalf from the British officers, which 
were sometimes granted to female intercession. Their suf- 
ferings appealed to female benevolence also among the loyal- 
ists Some of those most attached to the royal cause were 
10* 



226 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

indefatigable in tlieir attentions to the sufferers, wbom many 
feared to visit in consequence of the prevalence of a contagious 
fever in the hospitals. The English were \^ell supplied with 
necessary stores ; the Americans were destitute, and there- 
fore experienced their kindness and bounty. Their servants 
were continually employed in carrying them nourishment and 
articles needed; and in some cases they paid the hire of 
nurses, where personal services were indispensable. They 
soothed the death-bed of many with the consolations of reli- 
gion, prayed with those who were in danger, and joined with 
the convalescent in returning thanks. 

When the British took possession of Charleston, the house 
in which Mrs. Motte resided, was selected as the head-quar- 
ters of Colonels Tarleton and Balfour. From this abode she 
determined not to be driven ; and presided daily at the head 
of her own table, with a company of thirty British officers. 
The duties forced upon her were discharged with dignity 
and grace, while she always replied with becoming spirit to 
the discourteous taunts frequently uttered in her presence 
against her " rebel countrymen." 

A beautiful country-seat, called Accabee, seven miles from 
Charleston, was noted during the war as a place of refuge ; 
being unmolested because Mrs. Elliott, its owner, had no 
male relative -to be obnoxious to the British. The mansion 
was of brick, solidly built ; with a piazza in front, and a gar- 
den and lawn extending to the Ashley River. The grounds 
were covered with grass, on which sheep might be seen lying 
under the magnificent live oaks decorated with the floating 
silvery moss so beautiful in the low country. The graceful 



CHAPTER XX. 227 

frino-e tree and ma;Tnolia grandiflora, with other oinameii tivl 
trees, grew in clumps in front and on either s.de. In the 
rear, a portico looked on an avenue of floworin;^' locusts, nearly 
a mile in length. At one time, when Col. Lewis Morris waG 
on a visit here to the daughter of Mrs. Elliott, whom he after- 
wards married, the attention of the family was drawn to tho 
windows hy an unusual noise, and they perceived that the 
house was surrounded by the Black Dragoons, in search ot 
the young officer, who had no time to escape. Miss Elliott 
went to one of the windows, opened it, and presenting her 
self to the view of the dragoons, demanded what they wanted 
" We want the rebel!" was the reply. "Go and look for 
him in the American army !" answered the young girl. 
" How dare you disturb a family under the protection of 
both armies .^" Her firmness and resolution conquered ; aud 
the enemy departed without further molestation. 

The daring exploits of Clarion have not been noticed, h'^- 
cause vuKiy are cot so intimately connected with Drommcnt 
movements of the war as those of Sumter. After the call of 

Charleston, when all seemed lost, and parties of British were 

* 
laying waste the country in every direction, he collected a little 

band of bold and active troopers at Lynches Creek, and drill- 
ed them regularly for service. He now held a generaPs com- 
mission from Gov. llutledge. With this band, called " Mari- 
on's brigade," he commenced his forest warfare, taking 
refuge in swamps and fastnesses known only to themselves, 
and harassing the enemy from his impenetrable retreat, till 
the very name of the brigade became a terror throughout the 
country to British and loyalists. No vigilance could guard 



228 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

against his attacks ; no effort could force him to open conflict" 
The enemy was astonished at his feats, and the success of his 
gallant deeds greatly aided the cause. 

Marion's favorite retreat on Snow's Island, at the confluence 
of Lynch's Creek and the Pedee, was wild and solitary enough 
for a scene of romance. Deep swamps formed the border of 
the island, enclosed with running water ; there were cane- 
brakes in which game was to be found, and the central 
elevated ground was covered with tall forest trees. Marion 
and his men lived here on the plainest fare. It is related 
that towards the close of 1780, a British officer from George- 
town cume to his camp to negotiate for an exchange of 
prisoners. Marion invited him to dinner, which consisted of 
roasted potatoes, served on pieces of bark. The Briton asked 
if their ordinary fare was no better, and was told it was not j 
if they drew good pay ; not a cent. On his return to his 
friends, he observed that he had little hope of conquering a 
country wnosc defenders could thus submit to toil unci priva- 
tion simply for the love of liberty. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

STATE OF THE COUNTRY IN OTHER DISTRxCTS. 

Many incidents might be mentioned to show the condition 
of the country, and the state of popuhir fooling, wliile the 
Briti5:h were making efforts to establish an undisputed control 
0"cr the State. But space permits only one or two examples. 
It should be borne in mind that the experience of an indivi- 
dual is always described as illustrative of many others in simi- 
lar circumstances. The wife of Col. Thomas, who was a 
prisoner at Ninety-Six, went to visit him and her two sons, 
his companions in rigorous captivity. By chance she heard a 
tory woman say to some others : " To-morrow night the loyal- 
ists intend to surprise the rebels at Cedar Spring." She was 
thrilled at alarm with this intelligence ; the Cedar Spring 
was within a few miles of her house ; the whigs were posted 
there, and among them were some of her own children. Her 
resolution was taken at once ; she determined to apprise them 
of the enemy's intention, before the blow could be struck. 
Bidding a hasty adieu to her husband and sons, she was upon 
the road as quickly as possible ; rode the intervening distance 
of nearly sixty miles the next day, and arrived in time to 
bring information to her sons and friends of the impending 



230 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

danger. The moment they knew what was to be expected, a 
brief consultation was held ; and measures were immediately 
taken for defence. The soldiers withdrew a short distance 
from their camp fires, which were prepared to burn as brightly 
as possible. The men selected suitable positions in the sur- 
rounding woods. 

Their preparations w^'^e just compIe'"odj when they heard 
in the distance, araid the silence of night, the cautious advance 
of the foe. Slowly and warily they advanced, till they were 
already wir.Lin the glare of the blazing fires; they s .ipp-'.&.;d 
the intended victims wrapped in heavy slumber ; they hcud 
but the crackling of the flames, and the hoarse murmur of "ha 
wind as it swept through the pine trees. Giving the sigiiLl 
for the onset, they rushed towards the fires, eager for slaughter ; 
but suddenly the flashes and shrill reports of rifles revealed 
the hidden patriots. To their consternation, they found them- 
selves assailed in the rear by tlie party they had expected to 
strike unawares. Thrown into confusion by this unexpected 
reception, overwhelming defeat was the consequence to the 
loyalists. 

The wife of Captain Eichardson, who lived in Sumter Dis- 
trict, sustained more than her share of the trials which fell to 
woman's lot in the midst of the storm and struggle. Her 
husband had been taken prisoner at the fall of Charleston, 
and sent to a militaiy station on John's Island, where he 
neaily fell a victim to the small-pox. The British having 
fail >d to observe the conditions on which he had surrendered, 
as soon as he recovered sufficiently to move about, he made 
his escape, and returned to his home, where he concealed him- 



CHAPTER xxr. 231 

self in tbo Santee Swamp. This extensivo swamp-l.ancl bovJer? 
tho river for many niilos, presanting to the vicv a vast plai*: 
of dense woods which seem absolutely impervious. Tbo re- 
cesses of those dark thickets, where the trees grow C'ose 
together, and are interlaced by a luxuriant growth of giant 
creepers, often afforded hiding-places for the hunted .Amer- 
icans. At this time the British troops having overrun the 
State, Col. Tarleton had made the house of Capt. Richardson, 
with some others, a station for his regiment of cavalry. They 
lived luxuriously on the abundance of his richly-stocked and 
w^dl-cultivated plantation ; while Mrs. Richardson and her 
children, it is said, were furnished with but a scanty share of pro- 
visions. Yet every day she sent food from lier small allowance 
by an old and faithful negro, to her husband in the swamp. 
She had expected the seizure of her horses and cattle, and 
had sent Richardson's favorite riding horse into the swamp 
for concealment, with a few cattle which she wi.shed to «a«7ft 
for future need The horse was shut up in a covered pen in 
the woods, which had once been used for holding corn. Some- 
times also, Mrs. Richardson ventured to vi.sit her husband, 
taking with her their little daughter. These stolen meetings 
were full of consolation to the fugitive. The .spot he had 
chosen for his retreat was a small knoll or elevation in the 
heart of the swamp, called '' John's Island," by way of dis- 
tinction from another in the neighborhood, occupied by other 
whigs, which bore the name of " Beech Island." 

It was not lon^ before the British had information of his 
escape. They naturally concluded that he was somewhere in 
the vicinity of his family and relatives. A diligent search 



232 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

was mstituied, and they watched to surprise him, or find sonio 
clue to hra retreat. Not unfreqiientlj did the men boast in 
the propence of the wife, of what they would do when they 
should capture him. On one occasion some of them display- 
ed in her sight their swords reeking with blood — probably tliat 
of her catth> — and told her it was the blood of Capt. Richard- 
son, wh'vn they had killed. At another time they brought 
intelligence that he had been taken and hanged. In this state 
of cruel suspense she sometimes remained for several succes- 
sive days, not knowing whether to believe or distrust the hor- 
rible tales brought to her ears. 

One day, when the troops were absent on some expedition, 
Capt. Richardson ventured home on a visit. Before he 
thought of returning to his refuge in the forest, a patrolling 
party of the enemy appeared unexpectedly at the gate. Mrs. 
Richardson, with great presence of mind, seeing the British 
soldiers about to come in, pretended to be intently busy 
aboT.'i something in the front door, and stood in the way, re- 
tarding their entrance, till her husband had time to retire 
through the back door, into the swamp near at hand. The 
captain was not idle in his seclusion ; but collecting around 
him the whigs of his acquaintance, he trained them daily in 
cavalry exercise.* When Tarleton ravaged the plantation and 
burnt the dwelling of his deceased father. Gen. Richardson 
he passed so near the ruins as to see the extent of the deso 
lation. 

Several times did he peril his life to vi.sit his amiable famil) 
At one time, after he had joined the forces of Marion, 1- j 
and some of his friends had scarcely reached his house when 



CHAPTER XXI. 233 

a ;.Lrr/ CI l^ritish and tories was seen advancing rapidly do^n 
tlie ^-vcnuc. To remount in all hasto their wearied steeds, 
and ride down the bank at the rear of the house, seekino; con- 
C(;:unicnt iu the swaiup, oJored the only chance for escape. 
In tbit: they all Enceecdcd, except a young man with w'lio!ii 
!Mrs. llicLardson was weJl acquaintod. In vain die cLe iii- 
tercede tor him wi;.h the officers, and with streaming ever, im- 
plore them to spare his life. They hanged him on a walnut 
tree only a few paces from her door. When she complained 
with tears of this cruelty to herself, and barbaiity towards one 
Avho had risked his lifi^ in defence of her husband, they jeeringly 
told her they '^ would soon have him also, and then she should 
see him kick like that fellow." To such atrocities could the 
passions of brutalized m-en lead them, even in an age and na- 
tion that boasted itself the most enlight.med on earth ! 

The portion of the State comprising Spartanburg and Union 
Districts witnessed many deeds of Tiolenco ai^d Ihod, ruo 
many bold achievements of the liardy partisans. 80 prevalent 
was loyalism in the darkest of those days, so bitter was the 
animosity felt towards the whigs, and so eager the determina- 
tion to root them from the soil, that the very recklessness of 
hate gave frequent opportunities for the betrayal of the plans 
of their enemies. Often were the boa.'^tiugs of tho^e who 
p'-'Ued some midnight surprise, or some enterprise that pro- 
Uiised lare pillage — uttered in the hearing of weak and de- 
spised women — unexpectedly turned into wonder at the secret 
agency that had disconcerted them. The tradition of th( 
country teems with accounts of enterprise in this kind of ser 
vice. 



234 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

One young girl, Miss Langston, residing ia Laarons Div 
trict, having heard by accident that the " Bloody Scou*'' 
were aLout to visit the " Elder settlement'* where her hrothor 
Dnd some friends were living, determiriod at, all hazards to givo 
them warning. She was obliged to leave her home alone, by 
stealth, and at the dead hour of nigtr,. Maiiy miles were to 
be trj,7erscd, and the road lay thron<;h wowds, and crossed 
marshes and creeks where the conveniences of bridges and 
foot-logs were want in;:. She walked rapidly on, heedless of 
slight difficulties ; but her heart almost failed her when she 
came to the banks of the Tyger — a deep and rapid stream, 
rendered more dangerous by the rains that had lately fallen. 
Tint the thought of personal danger weighed not with her; 
she resolved to accomplish her purpose, or perish in the at- 
tempt. She entered the water ; but when in the middle of 
the ford, became bewildered, and knew not wJiich direction to 
."■^ke. Tb^ hoarse rush of the waters, which were up to her 
neck — the blackness of the night — the utter solitude around 
her — the uncertainty lest the next step should ingulph her 
past help, confused her, and she wandered some time in the 
chann d without knowing whither to turn her steps. But the 
energy of a resolute will, under the care of Providence, sus- 
tained her. 

Having with difficulty reached the other side, she lost lc*. 
time in hastening to her brother, informed him and his friebJs 
of the preparations made to surprise and dovstroy them, and 
urged hira to send his men instantly in diflerent directions to 
arouse and warn the neighborhood. The soldiers had just 
returned from a fatiguing excursion, and complained that they 



CHAPTER XXI. 235 

were faint from want of food. The noble girl, not satisfied 
with what she had done, was ready to help them still further 
by providing refreshment immediately. Though wearied, wet 
and shivering with cold, she at once set about her prepara- 
tions. A few boards were taken from the roof of the house, 
a fire was kindled with them, and in a few minutes a hoe-cake, 
partly baked, was broken into pieces, and thrust into the shot- 
pouches of the men. Thus provisioned, the little company 
hastened to give the alarm to their neighbors, and did so ia 
time for all to make their escape. 

At a later period, the father of Miss Langston incurred the 
displeasure of the loyalists in consequence of the active ser- 
vices of his sons in their country's cause. A party came to 
his house with the desperate design of putting to death all the 
men of the family. The sons w^ere absent, but the feeble old 
man was in their power. One of the company drew a pistol 
and deliberately levelled it at his breast. Suddenly a shriek 
was heard, and his young daughter sprang between her aged 
parent and the fatal weapon. The brutal soldier roughly 
ordered her to get out of the way, or the contents of the pis- 
tol would be instantly lodged in her own heart. She heeded 
not the threat, but clasping her arms tightly around the old 
man's neck, declared that her own body should first receive 
the ball aimed at his heart ! There are few human beings, 
even of the most depraved, entirely insensible to all generous 
impulses. On this occasion the conduct of the daughter, so 
determined to shield her father's life by the sacrifice of her 
own, touched the heart even of a member of the " Bloody 
Scout," and Langston was spared. 



236 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Tlic Htato of a. half savage region of country near the fron- 
tier in Gco:gia, may be illustrated by the following anecdote, 
W';U romcmbercd in that State. In a portion of Wilkes — now 
Elbf.rt County — called by tories, " The Hornet's Nest," on 
account of the number of whigs among the inhabitants, a 
stream named " AVar-woman's Creek," joined Broad River. 
It was so called on account of a zealous tory-hating heroine 
v.lio lived on its banks. On the occa.sion of an excursion from 
the British camp at Augusta, into the interior for the pur- 
pose of pillage and murder, five loyalists separated from their 
•/-.jiriy, and crossed the river to examine the neighborhood and 
iwy a vbii to their old acquaintance, Nancy Hart. When 
til.;}' arrived at her cabin, they uuceretnuniously entered it, 
Hnd informed her they had come to learn the truth of a story, 
ihixt she had secreted a noted rebel from a party of " king's 
men," who, but for her interference, would hare caught and 
hung him. Nancy undauntedly avowed her agency in the 
fugitive's escape. She had heard at first, she said, the tramp of 
a horse, and then saw a man on horseback approaching her 
cabin. As soon as she knew him to be a whig flying from 
pursuit, she let down the bars in front of her cabin, and mo- 
tioned him to pass through both doors and take to the swamp 
She then put up the bars, entered the cabin, and closed the 
doors. Presently some tories rode up to the bars, calling 
vociferously for her. She muffled up her head and face, and 
opening the door, inquired why they disturbed a sick, lone 
woman. They said they had traced a man they wanted to 
catch near to her house, and asked if any one on horseback 
had passed that way. She answered no, but that she saw some 



CHAPTER XXI. 237 

one on a sorrel horse turn out of tlie path into the woods, 
two or three hundred yards back. " That must be the 
fellow !" said the tories ; and asking her direction as to the 
way he took, they turned about and went off, " well fooled," 
concluded Nancy, *' in an opposite course to that of my whig 
boy , when, if they had not been so lofty minded, but had 
looked on the ground inside the bars, they would have sp.en 
his horse's tracks up to that door, as plain as you can see the 
tracks on this floor, and out of t'other door down the path tc 
the swamp." 

This bold story did not much please the tory party, but 
they contented themselves with ordering her to prepare them 
someting to eat. She replied that she never fed traitors and 
king's men if she could help it — the villains having put it out 
of her power to feed even her own family and friends, by 
stealing and killing all her poultry and pigs, " except that one 
old gobbler you see in the yard." " And that you shall cook 
for us," said one who appeared to be a leader ; and raising 
his musket he shot down the turkey, which another brought in 
and handed to Mrs. Hart to be cleaned and cooked without 
delay. She stormed awhile, but seeming at last disposed to 
make a merit of necessity, began with alacrity the arrange- 
ments for cooking, assisted by her daughter, a little girl ten 
or twelve years old. 

The spring — of which every' settlement had one near — was 
just at the edge of the swamp ; and a short distance »vitliin 
the swamp was hid among the trees a high snag-topped stump, 
on wiiich was placed a conch-shell. This rude trumpet was 
used by the family to convey information, by variations in its 



238 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

notes, to Hart or his neiglibors, who might be at work in a 
field or ^' clearing" at hand — to let them know that the 
" Britishers" or tories were about — that the master was want- 
ed at the cabin — or that he was to keep close, or " iralco 
tracks" for another swamp While cooking the turkey, Nancy 
sent her daughter to the spring for water, with directions to 
blow the conch in such a way as should inform her father 
there were tories in the cabin ; and that he was to keep 
close with his three neighbors until he should again hear the 
signal. 

While the men, who had become merry over their jug of 
liquor, were feasting upon the slaughtered gobbler, Nancy 
waited on the table, and occasionally passed between them 
and their muskets. She had contrived that there should be 
no water in the cabin ; and when it was called for, despatched 
£ukey a second time to the spring, with instructions to blow 
f-ueh a signal on the conch as should call up Hart and his 
•jQ',ighbors immediately. Meanwhile she had managed by 
biipping out one of the pieces of pine which form a " chink- 
iag" between the logs of a cabin, to open a space through 
which she was able to pass to the outside two of the five guns. 
She was detected in the act of putting out the third. The 
men sprang to their feet ; when, quick as thought, Nancy 
brought the piece she held, to her shoulder, declaring she 
would kill the first man who approached her. The men ar- 
riving from the field, the tories were taken prisoners, and, sad 
to relate ! received no more mercy than had some of the whigs 
at the hands of their enemies. 



C 11 A P T E a X X I f . 

INCURSION INFO NEW JERSEY INDIAN [lAVAGEi IN TKK 

VALLEV OF THE MOHAWK. 

Some events that occui-red at the North during the summer 
of 1780, demand our attention. One of those is an incufsiou 
into New Jersey. On the 7th of June some British troops 
left Staten Ishind, under the command of the Hessian Gene- 
ral Knyphausen, and landed at Elizabethtown before daylight. 
Their design was to strike terror into the country, and their 
march into the interior was marked by pillage and devasta- 
tion. Several houses were fired and the inhabitants left desti- 
tute of provisions or shelter. As they approached the village 
of Connecticut Farms, four miles from Elizabethtown, maey 
families fled to Springfield, driving their' cattle before tliem. 

In a predatory incursion of British and tories, in January 
of this year, they had burned the church at Elizabeth- 
town, then used as a hospital for the sick and wounded 
of the American army. The weary soldiers were accustomed 
to Sleep upon its floor, and eat their hurried and scanty meals 
from the seats of the pews ; so that worshippers on the Sab- 
bath were not unfrequently compelled to stand through the 
service. The pastor, James Caldwell, was extremely obnox 



840 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

ious to the British and loyalists, on account of his zeal and 
activity in the cause of his country, and his great popularity 
jn the community. No eifort was spared to do him injury ; a 
price was set upon his head, and it is said that while preach- 
ing the gc!?pel of peace to his people, he was often forced to 
lay his loaded pistols by bis side in the pulpit. At this time 
his temporary rcnldenoe was at Connecticut Farms. 

When informed of the enemy's approach, Mr. Caldwell put 
bis ciier children into a baggage waggon in his possession 
as commissary, and sent them to some of his friends for pro- 
tection. Three of the younger ones, one an infant, remained 
with their mother in the house. My. Caldwell had no fears 
for the safety of his wife and young family ; for he believed 
it impossible that resentment could be extended to a mother 
Witching over her little ones. He had that morning taken an 
early breakfast, intending to join the force collecting to op- 
pose the enemy. Having in vain endeavored to persuade his 
wife to go with him, he returned to make a last effort to in- 
duce her to change her determination ; but she remained firm 
She handed him «i cup of coffee, which he drank as he sat on 
horseback. Seeing the gleam of British arms at a distance, 
he put spurs to his horse, and in a few minutes was out of 
sight. 

Mrs. Caldwell herself felt no alarm. She had hid several 
articles of value in a bucket and let it down into the well, 
and had filled her pockets with silver and jewelry. She saw 
that the house was put in order, and then dressed herself with 
care, that, should the enemy enter her dwelling, she might, to 
use her own expression — ''receive them as a lady." Sho 



CHAPTER XXII. 241 

took the infant in her arms, retired to her chaaber, the win- 
dow of which commanded a view of the road, and seated her- 
self upon the bed. The alarm was given that the soldiers 
were at hand. But she felt confidence that no one could have 
the heart to do injury to the helpless inmates of her house. 
She had just nursed the infant and given it to the nuise, who 
was in the room. A soldier left the road, and crossing a 
space of ground to reach the house, came to the window of 
the room, put his gun close to it, and fired. Two balls en- 
tered the breast of Mrs. Caldwell ; she fell back on the bed, 
and in a moment expired. After the murder, her dress was 
cut open, and her pockets were rifled by the soldiers. Her 
remains were conveyed to a house on the other side of the 
road ; the dwelling was then fired and reduced to ashes with 
all the fuiniture. The ruthless soldiers went on in their 
work of destruction, pillaging and setting fire to the houses, 
piling beds and clothing in the street and destroying them, 
till the village was laid waste. 

This deliberate and barbarous murder had a great eifect on 
public feeling, exciting a universal sentiment of horror, and 
filling all with one desire to drive the invaders from their soil. 
" The Caldwell tragedy," says one of the journals of the 
day, " has raised the resolution of the country to the highest 
pitch." The advance of a body of troops from Morristown 
compelled the invaders to retire ; and a second advance 
met with repulse at Springfield. 

The history of the Scoharie settlements and the valley of 

the Mohawk is full of interest, but would occupy an entire 

volume by itself. The Mohawk Valley was one of the richest 
11 V 



242 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTIO^. 

agricultural districts in the country, and one of the most po- 
pulous at the period of the Revolution. It presented an in- 
viting aspect to the plundering savages and the refugees who 
shared a precarious subsistence among them and in the wilds of 
Canada. Scarcely any other section was so frequently invaded 
and overrun by the enemy. Month after month during seven 
years its villages and settlements were attacked or destroyed, 
its farms laid waste, and the inhabitants driven from their 
homes, or killed and captured. The settlers in each neigh- 
borhood were obliged to band together for their mutual 
defence, forming parties to serve as scouts through the coun- 
try, for the traveller from place to place was liable to attack 
in the lonely forest, or to a bullet or arrow aimed from the 
covert of rocks or bushes. 

During the summer of 177S, the Indians and tories being 
sufficiently employed in the destruction of Wyoming and 
Cherry Valley, the Mohawk Valley remained unmolested, 
with the exception of a descent upon the German Flats. In 
the spring of 1779, Gen. Clinton moved up the Mohawk nnd 
encamped at Canajoharie, and in this summer also little mis- 
chief was done. But in the spring of 1780 the Indians again 
appeared, infuriated at the destruction of their villages by 
Gen. Sullivan, and eager to wreak vengeance on the unoffend- 
ing inhabitants. In August, Brant, with an army of Indians 
■\nd loyalists, burst upon the defenceless settlements, plunder- 

ng, burning, and desolating the country ; while in the autumn 
Sir John Johnson ravaged the north side of the river. Thus 

ne destruction of the Mohawk settlements was almost com- 
pldei s»nd if here and there a small one escaped, it afforded 



CHAPTER xxri. 243 

but a temporary shelter, being lil'ely to be destroyed by the 
next storm that should sweep over the land. 

By way of showmg what numbers suffered, we will trace a 
few incidents in the experience of a single family — that of 
Martin Van Alstins, then living in the neighborhood of Cana- 
joharie. While the enemy, stationed at Johnstown, were 
laying waste the country, parties continually going about to 
murder the inhabitants and burn thoir dwellings, this neigh- 
borhood remained in comparative quiet, though the settlers 
trembled as each sun arose, lest his setting beams should fall 
on their ruined homes. Most of the men were absent, and 
when at length intelligence came that the destroyers were ap- 
proachino;, the people were almost distracted with terror 
Mrs. Van Alstine called her neighbors together, endeavored 
to calm their fears, and advised them to make immediate ar- 
rangements for removing to an island belonging to her husband 
near the opposite side of the river. She knew that the spoil- 
ers would be in too great haste to make any attempt to cross, 
and thought if some articles were removed, they might be in- 
duced to suppose the inhabitants gone to a greater distance. 

The seven families in the neighborhood were in a few hours 
upon the island, having taken with them many things neces- 
sary to their comfort during a short stay. Scarcely had they 
secreted themselves before they heard the dreaded warhoop, 
and descried the Indians in the distance. It was not long be- 
fore one and another saw the homes they loved in flames. 
When the savages came to Van Alstine's house, they were 
about to fire that also, but the chief, interfering, informed 
them that Sir John would not be pleased if that house were 



244 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

burned — the owner having extended civilities to the baronet 
bfifore the commencement of hostilities. Mrs. Van Alstine 
was thus enabled to give shelter to the houseless families who 
had fled with her. The fugitives, however, did not deem it 
prudent to leave their place of concealment for several days, 
the smoke seen in different directions too plainly indicating 
that the work of devastation was going on. 

Later in the following autumn an incident occurred pro- 
ductive of trouble. Three men from the neighborhood of 
Canajoharie, who had deserted the whig cause and joined the 
British, came back from Canada as spies, and were appre- 
hended and executed. Their prolonged absence causing 
uneasiness to their friends in Canada, some Indians were sent 
to reconnoitre and learn something of them. They returned 
immediately, and a party was dispatched to revenge the death 
of the spies upon the inhabitants. In their progress they 
came to the house of Van Alstine, where no preparations had 
been made for defence, the ilimily not expecting an attack. 
Mrs. Van Alstine was personally acquainted with Brant, and 
it may have been owing to this circumstance that the members 
of the family were not killed or carried away as prisoners. 
The Indians came upon them by surprise, entered the house 
without ceremony, and plundered and destroyed everything in 
their way. The most valued articles, brought from Holland, 
were broken one after another, till the house was strewed with 
■ragraents. As they passed a large mirror without demolish- 
ng it, the family hoped it might be saved ; but presently 
two of the savages led in a colt from the stable, and the glass 
being laid in the hall, compelled the animal to walk over it 



CHAPTER xxir. 245 

The bods which thoj could not carry away they ripped open, 
shaking out the feathers and taking the ticks with them. 
They also took all the clothing. One young Indian, attracted 
by the brilliancy of a pair of inlaid buckles on the shoes of 
the aged grandmother seated in the corner, rudely snatched 
them from her feet, tore off the buckles, and flung the shoes 
in her face. Another took her shawl from her neck, threaten- 
ing to kill her if resistance were offered. They then broke 
the window glass throughout the house, and unsatisfied- with 
the plunder they had collected, bribed a man servant to show 
them where some articles had been hastily secreted. He 
treacherously disclosed the hiding-place, and the winter cloth- 
ing of the family was soon added to the rest of the booty. 
The provisions having been carried away, the family sub- 
sisted on corn, which they pounded and made into cakes. 
They felt much the want of clothing, and the mother gathered 
the silk of milk-weed, of which, mixed with flax, she spun 
and wove garments. The inclement season was now approach- 
ing, and they suffered severely from the want of window glass, 
as well as their bedding, woollen clothes, and the various ar- 
ticles, including cooking utensils, taken from them. The most 
arduous labors could do little towards providing for so many 
destitute persons ; their neighbors were in no condition to 
help them, the roads were almost impassable, besides being in- 
fested by Indians, and their finest horses had been taken. In 
this deplorable situation, Mrs. Van Alstine proposed to her 
husband to join with others who had been robbed in like man- 
ner, and make an attempt to recover their property from the 
Indian castle, eighteen or twenty miles distant, where it had 



246 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

been carried. But the idea of such an enterprise against an 
enemy superior in numbers and well prepared for defence, was 
soon abandoned. 

As the cold became more iutolerable and the necessity for 
doing something more urgent, unable longer to witness the 
sufferings of those dependent on her, she resolved to venture 
herself on the expedition. Her husband and children en- 
deavored to dissuade her, but firm for their sake, she left home, 
accompanied by her son, about sixteen years of age. The 
snow was deep and the roads in a wretched condition, yet she 
persevered through all difficulties, and by good fortune arrived 
at the castle at a time when the Indians were all absent on a 
hunting excursion, the women and children only being left at 
home. She went to the principal house, where she supposed 
the most valuable articles must have been deposited, and on 
entering was met by the old squaw who had the superintend- 
ence, who demanded what she wanted. She asked for food ; 
the squaw hesitated ; but on her visitor saying she had never 
turned an Indian away hungry, sullenly commenced prepara- 
tions for a meal. The matron saw her bright copper tea- 
kettle, with other cooking utensils, brought forth for use. 
While the squaw was gone for water, she began a search for 
her property, and finding several articles gave thom to her 
son to put into the sleigh. When the squaw, returning, asked 
by whose order she was taking those things, Mrs. Van Al- 
stine replied, that they belonged to her ; and seeing that the 
woman was not disposed to give them up peaceably, took 
from her pocket-book a paper, and handed it to the squaw, 
who she knew could not read. She asked whose name 



CHAPTER xxri. 247 

was affixed to tlie supposed order, and being told it was tliat of 
" Yankee Peter" — a man who had great influence among the 
savages, dared not refuse submission. Bj this stratagem Mrs. 
Van Alstine secured, without opposition, all the articles she 
could find belonging to her. She then asked where the horses 
were kept. The squaw refused to show her, but she went to 
the stable, and there found those belonging to her husband 
in fine order — for the savages were careful of their best 
horses She bade her son cut the halters, and finding them- 
selves at liberty they bounded off and went homeward at full 
speed. 

The mother and son now drove back as fast as possible. 
They reached home late in the evening, and passed a sleep- 
less Dight, dreading instant pursuit and a night attack from 
the irritated savages. Soon after daylight the alarm was 
given that the Indians were within view, and coming towards 
the house. Van Alstine saw no course to escape their ven- 
geance, but to give up whatever they wished to take back ; 
but his intrepid wife was determined on an effort, at least, to 
retain her property. As they came near she begged her hus- 
band not to show him S':^lf — for she, .knew they would imme- 
diately fall upon him — but to leave the matter in her hands. 
The intruders took their course first to the stable, and bid- 
ding all the rest remain within doers, the matron went out 
alone, followed to the door by her family, weeping and entreat 
ing her not to expose herself. Going to the stable, she in 
quired in the Indian language what the men wanted. Tie 
reply was ^' our horses." She said boldly — " They are ours 
you came and took them without right ; they are ours, and we 



248 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

mean to keep them." The chief now came forward threaten- 
ingly, and approached the door. Mrs. Van Alstine placed 
herself against it, telling him she would not give up the 
animals they had raised. He succeeded in pulling her from 
the door, and drew out the plug that fastened it, which she 
snatched from his hand, pushing him away. He then stepped 
back and presented his rifle, threatening to shoot her if she 
did not move ; but she kept her position, opening her neck- 
handkerchief and bidding him shoot if he dared. It might 
be that the Indian feared punishment from his allies for any 
6uch act of violence, or that he was moved with admiration of 
her intrepidity ; he hesitated, looked at her for a moment, 
and then slowly dropped his gun, uttering in his native lan- 
guage expressions implying his conviction that the evil one 
must help her, and saying to his companions that she was a 
brave woman and they would not molest her. Giving a shout, 
by way of expressing their approbation, they departed from 
the premises. On their way they called at the house of Col. 
Frey, and related their adventure, saying that the white 
woman's courage had saved her and her property, and were 
there fifty such brave women as the wife of " Big Tree," the 
Indians would never have troubled the inhabitants of the 
Mohawk Valley. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

TREASON OF ARNOLD CONTRIBUTIONS IN PHILADELPHIA 

REVOLT OF PENNSYLVANIA TROOPS GREENE AT THE 

SOUTH BATTLE OF THE COWPENS. 

One of the most remarkable incidents of the war occurred 
in September of 1780. Benedict Arnold, who held the rank 
of Major-General in the American army, and had served with 
high distinction, had been appointed commandant of Phila- 
delphia after its evacuation by the British. Plis extravagance 
had impaired his fortune, and being destitute of moral princi- 
ple, he did not scruple to supply himself with the means of 
maintaining his ostentatious style of living by fraud and dis- 
honest use of the public funds. For this he was tried by a 
court martial, found guilty, and sentenced to receive a repri- 
mand from the Commander-in-Chief. This painful duty 
was discharged by Washington with all possible delicacy, 
but Arnold's pride was deeply wounded, and he formed a 
secret purpose of revenge. 

While residing in Philadelphia, his accomplishments and 
the splendor of his equipments, with perhaps his insolent op- 
position to the local autliorities, had won favor for him in what 
uiirbt be called the exclusive and aristocratic circle of loyal 



250 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

ists. The daughter of one of the most prominent families in 
this circle — Margaret Shippen — became his wife. She was 
young, beautiful and gay, and had been greatly admired by 
the British officers. It is likely that her taste for luxury and 
display encouraged her husband's propensity to extravagance, 
but not at all probable that she was the instigator of his crime 
against his country. Nor can it be supposed that he even 
confided to her the perilous scheme he was pondering ; for it 
was neither necessary nor safe to do so. She was made the 
instrument, however — in all probability a.n unconscious one — 
of the intercourse carried on while the iniquitous plan was ma- 
turing. A letter from Maj. Andre to her, ofi'ering to procure 
supplies from New York of certain millinery articles for her 
use, is supposed to cover a meaning understood by Arnold 
alone. He and Andre had kept up a correspondence under 
feigned names from the spring of 1779. 

The American post at West Point was a formidable bar- 
rier to British incursions northward from New York. The 
command of this important position was given by Washington 
to Arnold at his earnest solicitation. He occupied as his 
headquarters the house of Beverley Robinson, a loyalist — 
situated on the east side of the Hudson, a little below West 
Point. Maj. Andre, aid-de-camp to Sir Henry Clinton, and 
Adjutant-General of the British army, was instructed to ne- 
gotiate with him for the surrender of this fortress. Their 
communications were carried on through an American named 
Joshua Smith. An interview at length took place between 
the two officers — i\.ndr? coming on shore and accompanying 
Arnold to Robinson's house. The agreement was then finally 



CHAPTER XXIII. 251 

concluded. Arnold promised to deliver the post into the 
hands of the British, having stipulated for a large sum of 
money and a high rank in the royal army. 

When Maj. Andre wished to return to New York he found 
himself unable to get on board the Vulture, whence he had 
lauded. He therefore set out by land, accompanied by Smith, 
and bearing a passport signed by Gen. Arnold, which served 
for his protection in passing the American posts, representing 
him as a person employed by the Greneral on important busi- 
ness. On the borders of the neutral ground — a region of 
country between the two hostile lines — Smith bade his com- 
panion farewell. Andre, now feeling almost secure, pressed 
on towards New York. He was stopped near Tarry town by 
three men belongino; to the vfVi'^ militia, John Pauldinof, 

O O O / 7 

David ^yilliams, and Isaac Van Wart. Their suspicions 
were awakened by some inconsistency in his answers ; they 
arrested and searched him, and found the treasonable dis- 
patches of Arnold in his boots. 

By this providential discovery the country was saved from 
a train of disasters. The captors took their prisoner to Col. 
Jameson, the commander of he American outposts. He had 
implicit confidence in Gen. Arnold, and wrote to inform him 
of the arrest of a peison called Anderson, travelling un- 
der his passport. This was an indiscreet procedure ; for it 
enabled the traitor to save himself by timely flight to the 
enemy. 

General AVashington, on his way from Hartford, stopped 
with his officers at West Point. His aids-do-camp — among 
them La Fayette — were at breakfast with Gen. Arnold when 



252 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE RESOLUTION. 

the let ,er arrived which bore to the traitor the first intelli- 
gence of Andre's capture. He left the room immediately, 
went 1o his chamber, sent for his wife, and briefly informed 
ber of the necessity of his instant flight to the British. The 
news overwhelmed her, and she fell in a swoon on the floor, 
while her guilty husband made his escape on board the Vul- 
ture, then lying in the river. 

The utmost horror and indignation was felt through the 
whole country and in Europe at this heinous treason. John 
Jay, writing from Madrid to Miss Livingston, says — " All the 
world here are cursing Arnold, and pitying his wife." The 
unfortunate Andre was tried by a court martial, and con- 
demned to death as a spy. The bravery and excellent cha- 
racter of this amiable young officer appealed to general sym- 
pathy, and his sad fote was much commisserated. But the 
public safety required the rigid execution of the penalty im- 
posed by the usages of war, and the sentence was executed. 
Arnold escaped the vengeance of his indignant countrymen ; 
but he was regarded with contempt even by those who had 
expected to profit by his crime, and his name descended to 
after ages under a load of infamy. 

The Anurican people, in their generous sympathy for 
Andre, have almost forgotten the daring and self-devotion of 
one of Connecticut's noblest sons — Capt. Nathan Hale. In 
September, 1776, when Washington, after his retreat from 
Long Island, was encamped on Harloem Heights, it became 
important for him to know the situation of the British army, and 
the indications of its future movements. Hale ofl"ered to devote 
himself to the perilous enterprise. He crossed the Sound 



CHAPTER xxirr. 253 

from Norwalk to Huntington in the disguise of a schoolmaster, 
and travelling westward at length entered New York. Ilav 
ing gained the desired information, he set out on his return, 
passing through the Island to a spot previously designated, 
where a boat was to receive him. As he approached the 
shore he mistook a British craft for the one he expected. 
Discovering his error, he attempted to retrace his steps ; but 
it was too late ; several muskets were levelled at him, and he 
was oblii];ed to surrender. Beino- searched, it was ascertained 
that he was a spy. He was taken immediately to New York, 
and the next morning hung upon a tree. His execution was 
attended with circums-tances of aggravated cruelty ; the con- 
solations of religion were denied him ; he was refused a Bible 
and the attendance of a clergyman. The letters he had writ- 
ten to his friends were destroyed. Yet the zeal of the patriot 
was strong in death. His last words, as he stood friendless 
and alone beneath the tree, were : " I only regret that I have 
but one life to give for my country." 

It should not be forgotten that in the autumn of this year 
the ladies of Philadelphia united in their memorable contribu- 
tion for the relief of the suffering American soldiers. The 
diminished resources of the country scarcely allowed the scan- 
tiest supply of clothing and provisions, and the ability if not 
the benevolence of the citizens seemed almost exhausted by 
repeated applications. An association was formed and a lady 
president appointed, with a committee to collect the contribu- 
tions. The work was charity in its genuine form, and from 
its purest source — the voluntary outpouring of the heart. 
They solicited mon ',y and other cifts from house to house, and 



254 DOMESTIC HISTORY' OF THE REVOLUTION. 

sacrificed their trinkets and jewelry to swell the fund. The 
result was remarkable. The aggregate amount of contribu- 
tions in the city and county of Philadelphia was not less than 
eeven thousand five hundred dollars in specie ; much of it, 
too, paid in hard money at a time of the greatest appreciation. 
" All ranks of society seem to have joined in the liberal ef- 
fort, from Phillis, the colored woman, with her humble seven 
shillings and sixpence, to the Marchioness de La Fayette, who 
contributed one hundred guineas in specie, and the Countess 
de Luzerne, who gave six thousand dollars in continental 
paper." La Fayette sent the offering in his wife's name, 
with a graceful letter to the president of the association. 

The Marquis de Chastellux, describing a visit paid to 
Mrs. Bache, at whose house many of the shirts provided for 
the soldiers were cut out, says : " She conducted us into a 
room filled with work lately finished by the ladies of Philadel- 
phia. This work consisted neither of embroidered tambour 
waistcoats, nor of network edging, nor of gold and silver bro- 
cade. It was a quantit}'' of shirts for the soldiers of Penn- 
sylvania. The ladies bought linen from their private purses, 
and took a pleasure in cutting them out and sewing them. 
On each shii t was the name of the married or unmarried lady 
who made it, and they amounted to twenty-two hundred." 

This seasonable aid did more than simply remove the pres- 
sure of want ; it had a moral efi"ect in stimulating the soldiers 
to perseverance, and inspiring them with confidence. Gen. 
Washington, in his letter of acknowledgment to the committee 
of ladi(!S, says : " The army ought not to regret its sacrifices 
or its sufferings, when they meet with so flattering a reward 



CHAPTER XXIII. 255 

as in the sympathy of your sex." Nor was such generosity 
or zeal limited to a single city or State. Amon^ examples 
too numerous to mention, is one of a lady of New Jersey, 
whose gates on the public road bore the inscription — " Hospi- 
tality within to all American officers, and refreshment for their 
soldiers ;" an invitation not likely to prove a mere form of 
words on the regular route between the northern and southern 
posts of the army. Instances, too, occurred in which re- 
spectable strangers, who had taken quarters at the public 
house, were invited to the comforts of a private table and fire- 
side. A gentleman taken ill at the tavern was brought by 
Mrs. Wilson's domestics to her dwelling, the best medical aid 
and nursing secured foi- him, and hospitality extended to the 
friends who came to visit him durino- a Ions; illness. 

The same lady was visited by General and Mrs. Washing- 
ton, a short time after the execution of Maj. Andre. Their 
approach, with the General's staff, and the escort of a troop 
of horse, was announced to her in time to have dinner in 
readiness for a party of thirty or forty. Before these distin- 
guished guests took their departure, a concourse of people 
from the adjacent country and the towns in the vicinity had 
crowded round the house to catch a glimpse of the idolized 
Chief. A few members of the legislature, and the prominent 
gentlemen of the neighborhood were admitted and formally 
introduced. As it was impossible for the multitude to obtain 
entrance, a little stratagem was devised by one of the gentle- 
men, by which those without could be gratified without sub- 
jecting the General to the annoyance of a mere exhibition of 
himself. Knowing his admiration of a fine horse, he ordered 



256 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

an animal reriiarkable for its beauty to be brought into tho 
street, and then invited him out to inspect it. Thus an op- 
portunity was afforded to the whole assemblage to gaze upoE 
and salute him with their cheers. 

At the commencement of 1781 the balance of success — 
notwithstanding the immense expenditure of blood and toil- 
seemed as likely to turn in favor of Great Britain as Amer 
ica. The former power, it was true, was involved by the 
Revolution in a war with three European nations — Holland 
having also become her enemy. Yet the army of Sir Henry 
Clinton was abundantly supplied, not only with men but with 
munitions ; while that of Washington still suffered terribly from 
the want of pay, clothes, and provisions. The necessity be- 
came so pressing as to cause discontent among the soldiers, 
which on the 1st of January, 1781, broke out in a revolt of 
the Pennsylvania troops. The mutineers abandoned their 
camp, and determined to present themselves before Congress 
to demand redress of their grievances. They were met at 
Princeton by emissaries of the British Commander-in-chief — 
Sir Henry Clinton — who sought to entice them by alluring 
promises into the service of His Majesty. The men, how- 
ever, had not lost their love of country, although driven to 
sedition by distress ; they indignantly seized the British agents 
and delivered them as prisoners to Gen. Wayne. The diffi- 
culties of which they complained were adjusted by prudent 
concessions, their most pressing wants being relieved, and they 
then returned to their duty. 

The suffering condition of the troops in general calling 
loudly for relief, Congress found it necessary to adopt ener 



CHAPTER XXIII. 257 

gotic measures. At this crisis, Robert Mon*is, a wealthy 
merchant of Philadelphia, was appointed superintendent of 
the treasury, and established the bank of North America. It 
was chiefly the beneficial influence of his financial operations 
that saved the army from disbanding, and enabled Congress 
to prosecute the war with renewed vigor. 

In January the traitor Arnold, in command of the Bri- 
tish forces, made a descent on Virginia, ravaging the coasts, 
and destroying public and private property. Gen. La Fayette 
was ordered with troops into that State for the purpose of in- 
tercepting and capturing him, and the French fleet stationed 
at Rhode Island sailed to take part in the expedition. The 
British Admiral Arbuthnot prevented its success by sailing 
from New York, attacking the French fleet, and driving it 
back to Rhode Island. Arnold thus escaped from the dan- 
ger that had threatened him, and his countrymen were disap- 
pointed in the hope of making an example of a traitor. In 
March he was joined by Gen. Phillips of the British army, 
and their work of devastation was continued. 

When Arnold left New York, Colonels Duadas and Simcoe 
— officers who possessed the entire confidence of Sir Henry 
Clinton — were sent with him. He could adopt no measure of 
importance without consulting them. It has been said that the 
English General gave them a " dormant commission," author- 
izing them to supersede and arrest him, should they suspect 
nim of sinister intent. It is evident that he was not impli- 
citly trusted by the commander 

The breezes of fortune which had fanned into life the ex- 
piring embers of opposition to English tyranny at the South, 



258 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

had been so variable that the hopes of the people, raised at 
times bj success, were often trembling on the verge of extinc- 
tion. On the other hand, the reverses that had bsfallen the 
British arms had exasperated the loyalists, and embittered the 
enmity felt towards the stubborn people who refused to be 
conquered. The whigs were hunted like deer, and chased 
from one place of shelter to another. Such was the condi- 
tion of things, when the destiny of the South was committed 
to the hands of a soldier of consummate genius, in whom all 
had implicit confidence. The following verse of a popular 
Revolutionary song was appropriate : 

" General Greene, Rhode Island's son, 
Commissioned from on high, 
In that distressed hour did come, 
And away our fears did fly." 

After his defeat near Camden, Gen Gates was removed 
from the command of the army at the South, and Gen. Greene, 
of Rhode Island, appointed in his place. When he took the 
command he established his encampment on the banks of the 
Pedee, opposite Cheraw. From the first outbreak in June, 
the whigs had endeavored to hold the upper part of the State 
■ — returning continually when driven back. Greene extended 
his posts across the country ; Gen. Morgan resting at the "Big 
Springs," and further west Col. Lacy at Fort Lacy, on Turkey 
Creek. The first movement of Greene was to send Morgan 
across the Catawba westward that he might check the devas- 
tations of the British and loyalists. Lord Cornwallis had for 
a long time projected an expedition into North Carolina ; but 
the first attempt had been baffled by the fall of Col. Ferguson 



CHAPTER xxiri. 259 

it Kiii<:5's Mountain. He now detornnned a second time 
upon advancing a!:^ainst that State, and boing unwilling to 
leave Morgan in his rear, despatched Tarleton to encounter 
him. Morgan at first retreated, and was closely pursued by 
Tarleton. Just before their encounter, a party of loyalists 
came to the house of a widow who lived near Grindal Shoal, 
a little south of Pacolet River, and committed some depreda- 
tions. They burned the straw covering from a rude hut in 
which the family lodged, while a relative ill of the small-pox 
occupied the bouse. Mrs. Potter and her children had built 
this lodge of rails, for their temporary accommodation. The 
soldiers attempted to take off her wedding-ring, which, as it 
had been worn for years, became imbedded under the skin in 
the effort to force it from her finger. They swore it should be 
cut off, but finally desisted from the attempt. On the same 
march, Tarleton encamped at the house of John Beckham, 
whose wife saw for the first time this renowned officer while 
standing in her yard, and ordering his men to catch her poul- 
try for supper. She spoke civilly to him, and hastened to 
prepare supper for him and his suite, as if they had been 
honored guests. When about to leave in the morning, he 
ordered the house to be burned, after being given up to pil- 
lage, but on her remonstrance recalled the order. All her 
bedding was taken, except one quilt, which soon shared the 
same fate. 

Near the Catawba, a woman, supposed to be a tory, was 
taken and brought for examination to Gen. Morgan. It 
proved to be our old acqfiaintance, Mrs. McCalla, on her way 
home from Charlotte Lord Cornwallifi had expressed a 



260 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

willingness to release her husband on his parole, provided 
Sumter would be security that the parole should be kept. 
The wife, accordingly, had made her way to the American 
general, and was now returning with the paper which she fan- 
cied would secure the captive's freedom. She was much 
amused at being taken for a loyalist, and after producing 
the paper in Sumter's handwriting to remove suspicion, gave 
Gen. Morgan an account of her visit to the headquarters of 
Cornwallis at Winnsboro' on New Year's day, and her sight of 
the review of the troops. 

Gen. Morgan halted his force at the Cowpens, near the 
line of division between North and South Carolina. Here, 
on the evening of the 16th of January, it is said that 
he called a council of war, summoning all his commissioned 
officers, and stating the circumstances in which they were 
placed, asked if they would burn their hard-earned bacon 
and flour, and fly across the mountains, or would stand by and 
defend it. Col. Washington replied — " No burning — no fly- 
ing — but face about and give battle to the enemy, and acquit 
ourselves like men !" The tradition is also that when Col. 
Tarleton took leave of Lord Cornwallis, he desired him to put 
off dinner on the third day till after three o'clock, and G-en. 
Morgan should be his guest at table ; for he expected to take 
him and his men prisoners without difficulty. 

The battle of the Cowpens — one of the most celebrated in 
the Revolution, was fought on the 17th of January, and re- 
sulted in the total defeat of the British. Col. Pickens, who 
like Marion and Sumter, had kept up a guerilla warfare by 
night and day, commanded the militia, and had a large share 



CHAPTER XXIII. 261 

in winning tlie victory. ITe obtained from Congress tlio ap- 
pointment of Brigadier-General. 

One incident has been frequently mentioned. Col. Tarle- 
ton, flying at full speed, for he feared that his retreat would 
be cut off, was closely pursued by Col. Washington. Coming 
up with his foe, Washington struck him, and wounded two of 
his fingers — his sword passing through the guard of Tarleton's. 
This gave occasion for a severe repartee by a Carolinian lady. 
In reply to a sarcastic observation of the British Colonel, that 
be should like to have an opportunity of seeing this favorite 
hero. Col. Washington, Mrs. Ashe, of Halifax, said, " if you 
had looked behind you. Col. Tarleton, at the battle of the 
Cowpens, you would have had that pleasure." 

This event revived the spirits of patriots throughout the 
country. Everywhere, as the news spread, men who had be- 
fore been discouraged flew to arms. On the 22d of January 
six wagons were loaded with corn at Wade's Island, sixty 
miles down the Catawba, for the use of Gren. Davidson's di- 
vision. The whig country of Chester, York, and Lancaster, 
may be said to have risen in mass, and was rallying to arms. 
Mecklenburg, North Carolina, was again the scene of warlike 
preparation ; for the whigs hoped to give the enemy another 
defeat at Cowans or Batisford on the Catawba. On the 24th 
of January Gen. Sumter crossed this river at Landsford, and 
received a supply of corn from Wade's Island. His object was 
to cross the districts to the west, in the rear of the advancing 
British army, to arouse the country and gather forces as he 
went, threaten the English posts at Ninety-Six and Granby, 
and go on to recover the State. 



262 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION 

While Cornwallis marched from his encampment on Ser- 
vice's plantation, the whigs of Chester were hovering near, 
watching the movements of the hostile armj as keenly as the 
eagle watches his intended prey. One of their bold exploits 
brought about the liberation of the unhappy prisoners of 
Chester District, who had languished in jail at Camden so 
many months. Eleven of them were given in exchange for 
two British officers. Thus McCalla and Adair were released. 
They were waited for by the faithful women — the wife and 
sister — and as they marched with the companions of their 
long imprisonment through the stre<^ts of Camden, passing 
the British guard, they sang a^ *]ifi t^p of their voices the 
Bongs of the liberty men. 




GENERAL GREENE. 



Page 263. 



CHAP TER XXIV. 

RETREAT OF GREENE RETURN BATTLES OF GUILFORD 

AND HOBKIRk's HILL FORT MOTTE. 

After the battle of the Cowpens, Gen. Morgan hurried on 
with his piisoners towards Cowan's Ford on the Catawba, 
followed by the British, who hoped to prevent his crossing the 
river. At this juncture Gen. Greene arrived, having left the 
main body of his army at his camp near Cheraw, and took the 
command of Morgan's division. The retreat was continued, 
while Cornwallis eagerly pursued him. On the issue of that 
memorable retreat hung the fate of the South. The British 
general well knew that the destruction of that army would 
secure his conquests. While Cornwallis was crossing the 
Catawba, Greene was approaching the village of Salisbury, 
North Carolina. The prisoners taken at the Cowpens were 
conveyed with the army — the intention being to take them to 
Virginia. Greene waited till midnight for the arrival of a 
body of militia under Gen. Davidson, who had been sta- 
tioned at the ford to dispute the passage of the river. The 
news reached him at length of their defeat and dispersion by 
the British troops, and the death of Davidson. 

His aids having been despatched to difierent parts of the 



264 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

retreating army, he rode on with a heavy heart to Salisbury. 
It had been raining during the day, and his soaked and soiled 
garments and appearance of exhaustion, as he wearily dis- 
mounted from his jaded horse at the door of the principal 
hotel, showed that he had suffered much from exposure to the 
storm, fatigue, and harassing anxiety. Dr. Reed, who had 
charge of the sick and wounded prisoners, was engaged in 
writing paroles for such of the officers as could not go on. 
From his apartment overlooking the main street, he saw his 
friend, unaccompanied by his aids, ride up and alight ; and 
hastened to receive him as he entered the house. Startled 
by his dispirited looks — he could not refrain from noticing 
them with anxious inquiries ; to which the wearied soldier 
replied : " Yes — fatigued — hungry — alone, and penniless !" 

The melancholy reply was heard by one determined to 
prove, by the generous assistance proffered in time of need, 
that no reverse could dim the flame of disinterested patriotism. 
Gen. Grreene had hardly taken his seat at the well-spread 
table, when Mrs. Steele, the landlady of the hotel, entered the 
room, and carefully closed the door behind her. Approach- 
ing her distinguished guest, she reminded him of the despond- 
ent words he had uttered, implying, as she thought, a 
distrust of the devotion of his friends, through every 
calamity, to the cause. Money, too, she declared he should 
have, and drew from under her apron two small bags full of 
specie, probably the earnings of years. " Take these," said 
she, " for you will want them, and I can do without them." 

The G-eneral resumed his journey, continuing the retreat. 
The eveninor after the battle at Cowan's Ford, the British 



CHAPTER XXIV. 265 

troops passed by the farm of James Haynes, which the soldinrs 
pillaged, plundered his house, and made the owner, sixty years 
of age, and in feeble health, a prisoner. Thoy boasted to 
him and his family that they had killed his son-in-law, Capt. 
Scott, and inthnated that his sons, who were with the repub- 
lican army, were either killed or prisoners. They emptied the 
bedticks, filled them with all the meal found in the house, and 
carried them off. Having stripped the old man of his coat, 
over-coat, and silver buckles, they drove him before them. 
Mrs. Haynes sent for a friend, who, having been driven from 
home with her children, was living in one of the outhouses on 
her plantation, to come and stay with her. The afflicted 
matron, conducting family worship that night, prayed fervently 
for the deliverance and freedom of her -country, and the inter- 
position of a protecting Providence for the rescue of her hus- 
band. " God prosper the right !" was frequently repeated by 
her in the prayer. The next morning, as nothing in the way 
of provisons remained on the premises, Mrs. Brown went into 
the meal-room and swept up the meal scattered on the floor, 
from which she prepared a little hasty pudding for the chil- 
dren. The family tradition is, that the daughter of Haynes 
made her way forty miles through the country, infested with 
marauders, to inform her brothers of their father's capiure, 
and that the sons pursued and found him, nearly exhausted, 
by the roadside, and bore him to his home. 

Both armies hurried on to the Yadkin River, but CornwalUs 
was there again disappointed in the hope of overtaking his 
enemy ; the sudden rise of the waters, as in the Catawba, pre 

ventinir his immediate passage. The superstitious deemed 
12 X 



266 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

these remarkable occurrences a special interposition pf Provi- 
dence in favor of the American cause. So near were the 
adverse parties, that a race for life within speaking distance 
was not an uncommon occurrence. John Haynes, sent out as 
a scout with three others, was pursued through a lane a mile 
long by Tarleton's dragoons, who had suddenly emerged from 
a clump of trees near them. In tliis pursuit the royalists 
destroyed the property of the widow Brevard, the mother 
of the Brevard who had drawn up the Mecklenburg Decla- 
ration of Independence. " She has seven sons in the rebel 
army," was the reason given by the officer for permitting 
her house to hi bu.ned and her farm plundered. 

Gen. Greene, now joined by the rest of his army, retreat- 
ed yet further towards Virginia. On the 15th of February 
Cornwallis, still in vigoroas pursuit, a third time reached the 
bank of a river (the Dan) just as the rear guard of the Amer- 
ican army had crossed. Mortified at his repeatad disapoint- 
ments, he then gave up the pursuit, and turned his course 
slowly southward. , 

For some days his army was encamped within the bounds 
of the congregations under the pastoral care of the Bev. 
David Caldwoll — the oldest and largest Presbyterian congre- 
gations in the county of Guilford. This eminent scholar and 
divine, like his namesake of New Jersey, had become obnox- 
ious to the royalists on account of his efforts and injElaence in 
the cause of national independence. He had been repeatedly 
harassed by the British and tories ; a price had been set on 
his head, and a reward offered for his apprehension. Go tho 
11th of March, while he, like most of the men of the neigh^ 



CHAPTER XXIV. 267 

borhood, was with Greene's anii}^, tlie British marched to his 
plantation and cneanip;^! there — the officers taking possession 
of his house. Mi-s. Caldwell was at home with her children 
when they arrived. They at first announced themselves as 
Americans, and asked to see the landlady ; but a female do- 
mestic who had ascertained, by standing on the fence and 
seeing redcoats at a distance, that they belonged to the army 
of Cornwallis, quickly communicated her discovery to her 
mistress. Excusing herself by saying that she must attend to 
h3r child, Mrs. Caldwell retired within the house, and imme- 
diately gave warning to two of her neighbors who happened 
t;) be there, that they might escape through the other door and 
conceal themselves. She then returned to the gate. The 
party in front, when charged with being British soldiers, 
avowed themselves such, and said they must have the use of 
the dwelling for a day or two. They immediately established 
themselves in their quarters, turning out Mrs. Caldwell, who 
with her children retired to the smoke house, and there passed 
a day with no other food than a few dried peaches and apples, 
till a physician interposed, and procured for her a bed, some 
provisions, and a few cooking utensils. The family remained 
in the smoke house two days and nights — their distress being 
frequently insulted by profane and brutal language. To a 
young officer who came to the door for the purpose of taunt- 
ing the helpless mother, by ridiculing her countrymen, whom 
he termed rebels and cowards, Mrs. Caldwell replied, " Wait 
and see what the Lord will do for us." " If he intends to do 
anything," pertly rejoined the military fop, " 'tis time he had 
begun." In reply to Mrs. Caldwell's application to one of 



268 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the soldiers for protection, she was told she joiild expect no 
favors, for that the women were as great rebels as the men. 

After reniainin;^ two days, the array took their departure 
from the ravaged plantation, on which they had destroyed 
everything ; but before leaving Dr. Caldwell's house, the 
officer in command gave orders that his library and papers 
should be burned. A fire was kindled in the large oven in 
the yard, and books which could not at that time be replaced, 
and valuable manuscripts which had cost the study and labor 
of years, were carried out by the soldiers, armful after armful, 
and ruthlessly committed to the flames. Not even the family 
Bible was spared, and the house, as well as plantation, was 
left pillaged and desolate. 

Gren. Grreene having received reinforcements in Virginia, 
now recrossed the Dan into North Carolina. G-en. Pickens 
and Col. Lee at this time encountered a body of loyalists on 
their way to join Tarleton, who mistaking his soldiers for 
Britons, were captured while waving their caps and shouting 
*' God save the King." Greene's army being still further 
augmented, he no longer avoided an engagement with the 
enemy, but advanced to Guilford Court House, and there 
awaited the arrival of Cornwallis. 

On the 15th of March was heard the roar of that battle 
which was to compel the retreat of the invaders, and achieve 
the di;livcrance of North Carolina. Two collections of wo- 
men, belonging to Dr. Caldwell's congregations in Buffalo 
and Alamanse, assembled, and while the conflict was raging 
fiercely between man and man, engaged in earnest prayer for 
their defenders, their families, and their country. Many 



CHAPTER XXIV. 269 

others sought the divine aid in solitary places. One pious 
woman sent her son frequently, during the afternoon, to the 
summit of a little hill near which she spent much time in 
prayer, to li.st.'n and bring her word which way the firing 
came— from the southward or the noithward. When he 
leturn^d and said it was going northward — '' Then," ex- 
claimed she, " all is lost ! Grreeue is defeated." But all was 
not lost ; the God who hears prayer remembered his people. 

After the cold, wet night which succeeded the action, the 
women wandered over the fijld of battle to saarch for their 
friends, administer the last sad Htes to the dead, and bear 
away the wounded and expiring. One officer who had lain 
thirty hours undiscovered, was found in the woods by an old 
lady, and carried to his house, where he survived long enough 
to relate how a loyalist of his ac(|uaintance had passed him 
the day after the battle, had recognized him, and bestowed a 
blow and an execration, instead of the water he craved to 
quench his consuming thirst. Conscience, however, some- 
times avenged the insulted rights of nature ; the man who 
had refused the dying request of a fellow creature, was found 
after the officer's death, suspended on a tree before his own 
door. 

The British, who were left in possession of the field, claim- 
ed the victory in this battle, and an order was issued in 
Charleston for a general illumination in honor of it. It is re- 
lated of a Mrs. Heyward tli^t she refused to permit lights to 
be placed in her windows, and when an officer called to de- 
mand the reason of this mark of disrespect, replied that her 
husband was a prisoner at St. Augustine, and she would not 



270 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

join in celebrating a victory gained by his enemies, even if 
the consequence must be the destruction of her dtrelling. 
Yet although the loss of the Americans was great, the result 
was unfavorable to Lord Cornwallis. He retired soon after- 
wards to Wilmington. After remaining there nearly three 
weeks, while Greene advanced to the encounter with Lord 
Rawdon, he set out on his march from Wilmington, bent on 
his cherished purpose of achieving the conquest of Virginia. 

On his march towards Halifax, he encamped for several 
days on the river Neuse, in what is now called Wayne County, 
North Carolina. His headquarters were Osfc Springbank, 
while Col. Tarleton, with his renowned legion, encamped on 
the plantation of Lieutenant Slocumb. These level and ex- 
tensive fields presented an inviting view of fresh verdure from 
the mansion house. Lord Cornwallis himself gave it the 
name of " Pleasant Green." The owner of this fine estate — 
already mentioned as figuring in the action at Moore's Creek 
— was in command of a company of light horse raised in his 
neighborhood, whose general duty it was to act as rangers, 
scouring the country for many miles round, watching the 
movements of the enemy, and punishing the loyalists when 
detected in pillage and murder. At the present time Slocumb 
having returned to the vicinity, had been sent with twelve or 
fifteen recruits to act as scouts in the neighborhood of the 
British general. He reconnoitred the army of Cornwallis, 
and then with his party pursued his way slowly along the bank 
of the river towards his own house, little dreaming that his 
beautiful and peaceful home was then in the possession of the 
terrible Tarleton. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 27] 

Col. Tarleton, when lie selected this spot for his encamp 
ment, rode up to the front piazza accompanied by two aids, 
and followed by a guard of some twenty troopers. Mrs. Slo- 
cumb was sitting there with her child and a relative, and a 
few house servants. To the British officer's announcemen 
that the service of His Majesty required the temporary occu- 
pation of her property, she replied that the family — consist- 
ing only of herself, her sister and her child, with a few negroes 
— were his prisoners. Tarleton then ordered one of his aids 
to pitch the tents and form the encampment in the orchard 
and field on their rio-ht : desirinoj the other aid to detach a 
quarter guard and station piquets on each road. The piazza 
commanded a view of the ground on which the camp was ar- 
ranged. An avenue half a mile in length, stretched to the 
road. On one side of this avenue was a fence and a thick 
hedge-row of forest trees ; on the other the common rail fence 
seven or eight feet high. The encampment was completely 
screened by the fences and hedge-row from the view of any 
one approaching from down the country. 

While orders were given to different officers who came up 
at intervals to make their reports, a tory captain was directed 
to take his troop and patrol the country for two or three miles 
around. This order, given in Mrs. Slocumb's hearing, greatly 
alarmed her ; for she expected her husband that day. By 
way of precaution, she sent for an old negro, and gave him 
directions to take a bag of corn to a mill about four miles dis- 
tant, on the road her husband must travel, and warn him of 
the danger of approaching his home. With the indolence and 
curiosity natural to his race, however, the black remained 



272 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE RE VC LUTION. 

loitaring about the premises, lurking under the hedgerow to 
admire the red coats, dashing plumes, and shining helmets of 
the British troopers. 

Meanwhile dinner was prepired and set before the royal 
officers. The dessert was suddenly interrupted by the rapid 
discharge of fire-arms, appearing to proceed from a wood a 
short distance eastward. Tarleton ordered a captain to take 
his troop in the direction of the firing, and walked out into 
the piazza, followed by the anxious ladias. From Mrs. Slo- 
cumb's answers to his questions, he became apprehensive that 
the skirmish in the woods was only the prelude to a concerted 
attack on his camp by some of the forces of Col. Washington. 
He hastened to mount his horse, and giving a loud order to 
form the troops on the right, dashed down the avenue to a 
breach in the hedge-row, leaped the fence, and in a moment 
was at the head of his regiment. 

The firing in the wood was from the party of Slocumb, who 
had encountered and routed the tory captain sent to reconnoi- 
tre the country. Some of the tories were presently seen in 
the open grounds east of the plantation, closely pursued by 
four of the Americans, while a running fight was kept up 
with different weapons, in which four or five broadswords 
gleamed conspicuous. The pursuers were too busy to see 
anything else, and entered the avenue at the same moment 
with the party pursued. With what horror and consternation 
did Mrs. Slocumb recognize her husband, her brother, and 
two of her neighbors, in chase, already half-way down the 
avenue, and unconscious that they were rushing into the 
enemy's midst ! 



CHAPTER XXIV. 273 

About the iiiiddlo of the avenue one of the tories fell ; and 
the course of the youni^ officers was suddenly arrested by 
the negro, who sprang directly in front of their horses, 
crying, " Hold on, raassa ! Look yon !" A glance to the 
left showed the young men their danger : they were within 
pistol shot of a thousand men drawn up in order of battle. 
Wheeling their horses, they discovered a troop already leap- 
ing the fence in the avenue in their rear. Quick as thought 
they again wheeled their horses, and dashed down the avenue 
directly towards the house, where stood the (juarter-guard to 
receive them. On reaching the garden fence, they leaped 
that and the next, amid a shower of balls from the guard, 
cleared the canal at one tremendous leap, and scouring across 
the open field to the northwest, were in the shelter of the 
wood before their pursuers could clear the fences of the en- 
closure. 

A platoon had commenced the pursuit ; but the trumpets 
sounded the recall before the flying Americans had crossed the 
canal. This forbearance was caused by the belief that the 
men who so fearlessly dashed into the camp, were supported 
by a formidable force at hand. Had the truth been known, 
the fugitives must have been captured and secured. This 
little incident may afford some idea of scenes that were of fre- 
quent occurrence during the continuance of warfare at the 
South. 

Slocumb and his companions passed rapidly round the plan- 
tation, and returned to the ground where the encounter had 
taken place, collecting on the way the stragglers of his troop. 

Near their bivouac he saw the tory captain's brother, who had 
12* 



274 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE RESOLUTION. 

been <;aptured by the Americans, banging by a bridle rein 
from tbe top of a sapling bmt down for the purpose, and 
struggling in tbe agonies of deatb. Hastening to the spot he 
severed the rein with a stroke of his sword, and with much 
difficulty restored him to life. 

The dignified and liberal courtesy of Mrs. Slocumb towards 
her unbidden guests, was acknowledged by strict orders that 
no depredations should be committed, though not even military 
authority could save the farm -yard poultry and stock from a 
hungry soldiery. Her plate and other valuables, on the news 
of the army's approach, had been buried at the edge of a 
marsh near at hand ; the soldiers suspected the place of de- 
posit, and plunged their pike staffs into the ground about the 
spot till the}^ discovered the treasure ; but they were com- 
pelled to restore it. When the army broke up their encamp- 
ment, ample remuneration was offered by Col. Tarleton for 
the trouble given, and a sergeant with a guard was ordered to 
remain till the last soldier had departed, to insure protection 
to a lady whose noble bearing had inspired them all with pro- 
found respect. 

In the meantime Gen. Greene, who had been bold enough 
to return to South Carolina, after several changes of position, 
entrenched his army at Hobkirk's Hill, a mile from the Bri- 
tish post at Camiin. Oq the 25th of April, Lord Rawdon 
attacked him. The British had the advantage in the battle 
which ensued ; yet as before, its consequences were favorable 
to tho Americans. Soon afterwards Rawdon evacuated Cam- 
den, and anxious to maintain his posts, directed his first 



CHAPTER XXIV. 275 

effort to relieve Fort Motte, at that time in\ested by Marion 
and Lee. 

This fort, which commanded the river, was the principal 
depot of the convoys from Charleston to Camden and the 
upper districts. It was occupied by a garrison, under the 
command of Capt. M'Pherson, of one hundred and sixty-five 
men, having been increased by a small detachment of dra- 
goons from Charleston, a few hours before the appearance of 
the Americans. The large new mansion-house belonging to 
Mrs. Motte, which had been selected for the establishment of 
the post, was surrounded by a deep trench, along the interior 
margin of which was raised a strong and lofty parapet. Op- 
posite, and northward, upon another hill, was an old farm- 
house, to which Mrs. Motte had removed when dismissed 
from her mansion. On this height Lieut. Col. Lee had taken 
position with his force ; while Marion occupied the eastern 
declivity of the ridge on whicli the foi-t stood ; the valley run- 
ning between the two hills permitting the Americans to ap- 
proach it within four hundred yards. 

M'Pherson was unprovided with artillery, but hoped to be 
relieved by the arrival of Lord llawdon to dislodge the assailants 
before they could push their preparations to maturity. He 
therefore replied to the summons to surrender, which came on 
the 20th of May, that he should hold out to the last moment in 
his power. In the night a courier arrived from Gen. Greene to 
a<lvlse the besiegers of Rawdon's retreat from Camden, and 
wv'Za redoubled activity ; and Marion persevered through the 
hours of darkness in pressing the completion of their works. 
The following night Lord Rawdon encamped on the highest 



276 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

ground in the country opposite Fort Motte ; and the despair- 
ing garrison saw with joy the illumination of his fires j while 
the Americans were convinced that no time was to be lost. 

The large house in the centre of the encircling trench, left 
but a few yards of ground within the British works uncovered ; 
burning the mansion, therefore, must compel the surrender of 
the garrison. This expedient was reluctantly resolved upon 
by Marion and Lee, who found himself compelled to inform 
Mrs. Motte of the unavoidable necessity of the destruction of 
her property. Mrs. Motte not only assented, but declared 
that she was "gratified with the opportunity of contributing 
to the good of her country, and should view the approaching 
scene with delight." Shortly after she sent for Lee, and pre- 
senting him with a bow and arrows, which had been imported 
from India, requested that they might be used to convey com- 
bustible matter to the house. 

Everything was now prepared for the concluding scene. 
The lines were manned, and an additional force stationed at 
the battery, to meet a desperate assault, if such should be 
made. The American entrenchments being within arrow shot, 
M'Pherson was once more summoned, and again more confi- 
dently asserted his determination to resist to the last. 

The scorching rays of the noonday sun had prepared the 
shingle roof for the conflagration. The return of the flag 
was immediately followed by the shooting of the arrows, to 
which balls of blazing rosin and brimstone were attached. 
They struck, and set fire in different quarters of the roof. 
M'Pherson immediately ordered men to repair to the loft of 
the house, and check the flames by knocking off the shingles , 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



277 



but tbey were soon driven down by the fire of the six pounder ; 
and no other effort to stop the burning bjing practicable, 
the commandant hung out the white flag, and surrendered the 
garrison at discretioji. 

If ever a situation in real lifj afforded a fit subject for 
poetry, by filling the mind with a sense of moral grandeur — 
it was that of Mrs. Motte contemplating the spectacle of hot 
home in flames, and rejoicing in the triumph secured to her 
countrym^n^the benefit to her native land, — by her surrender 
of her own interest to tha public service. After the captors 
had taken possession, M'Pherstn and his ofiieers accompanied 
them to her dwelling, where they sat down to a sumptuous 
dinner. 

The ladies of Charleston showed their good wishes for the 
success of the American general, by dressing in green^ and 
wearing green feathers and ribbons ; thus retaliating the pro- 
vocations of thnr invaders. It had previously been the cus- 
tom of the whig ladies to wear djep mourning. One of them 
passing the house of Gov. Rutledge in company with an 
English officer, took a piece of crape that had been acci- 
dentally torn from the fl)iinc;; of her dress, and tied it to the 
front railing, expressing at the same time her sorrow for the 
Governor's absence, and her opinion that his house, as well as 
his friends, oui^ht to wear mournino;. 

7 O ID 



CHAPTER XXV. 27P 

Miss iNIoore, a young lady who had lodged in the house with 
Mrs. Crugor, returnod to her home on Saluda Kiver the day 
before Lord Eawdon's troops passed along the road, not far 
from the dwelling of her parents. A sanguinary skirmish took 
place here between Rawdon's men and a body of Col. VYash 
ington's cavalry, sent to impede their progress. Soon after, 
one of the royal officers came to the house, where there were 
none but women, and advised the family to take care of their 
property. The caution was not unnecessary, for they were 
presently intiud<'d upon by several British soldiers. In their 
search for plunder, they rolled down from above stairs some 
apples that had been gathered and stored for the use of the 
family. The soldiers below began picking them up as they 
fell on the floor ; Miss Moore commanded them to desist, and 
gathering some of the fruit in her apron, offered it to a non- 
commissioned officer who stood by. Struck with the cool 
courage and determination of so young a girl, he made some 
remark expressive of his admiration, and ordered the soldiers 
instantly to desist from their rude trespass. He then inform- 
ed her tliat the men were killing lier father's sheep in the lot. 
Miss Moore hastened thither, followed by him. Two men 
were in the act of slaughtering one of the sheep ; but at the 
officer's bidding, with the threat of reporting them to the 
commander, they were compelled to let them go. 

After Greene had thus fallen back, some of the whig fami- 
lies near Saluda River, fearing to remain, fled to his camp for 
protection. Among these was the family of Gen. Pickens, 
who was then with Greene's army. Instead of providing 
for their safety, Pickens immediately sent them back to sharo 



280 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

tbe common sufferings of the country, thereby to show that 
the spirit of resistance was undying. 

The enthusiasm which prevailed among the people and 
prompted to so many acts of personal risk and sacrifice, was 
fostered by Gen. Greene. A daring exploit of two young 
women in this district has been often mentioned among the 
traditions of South Carolina. It is said that the wives of two 
officers, absent with the army, having heard that a British 
courier conveying despatches was to pass along the road that 
night, disguised themselves in their husbands' clothes, pro- 
vided themselves with arms, and took their station among the 
bushes by the roadside. When the courier appeared, guarded 
by two officers, they leaped from their covert, presented their 
pistols at the officers' breasts, and demanded the instant sur- 
render of the party. Then men, taken by surprise, yielded 
immediately, and were put on their parole. The women, 
having secured the papers, hastened home by a short cut 
through the woods, and sent the documents by a trusty mes- 
senger to Gen. Greene. 

Another traditional anecdote of female agency is character- 
istic. After Greene had passed Broad Biver he was desirous 
of sending an order to Gen. Sumter, then on the Waterce, to 
join him, that they might attack Lord Bawdon, who had di- 
vided his force. The country to be passed through was full 
of blood-thirsty loyalists, and it was difficult to find a man 
willing to undertake a mission so dangerous ; but a young 
gill— Emily Geiger — offered to act as messenger. Greene 
gave her the letter, at the same time informing her of the 
contents, to be communicated to Sumter verbally in case of 



CHAPTER XXV. 



281 



av'jcident. On the second day of her journej she was inter- 
cepted by one of Rawdon's scouts. Coming from the direc- 
ilon of Greene's army, and blushing a good deal as she at- 
tempted to give an account of herself, she was suspected and 
placed in confinement, while the officer sent for a tory matron 
to search her. As soon as the door was closed, Emily ate up 
the letter, piece by piece. After the search, nothing of a sus- 
picious nature being found about the prisoner, she was per- 
mitted to depart whither she said she was bound. She took a 
route somewhat circuitous to avoid detection, arrived at Sum- 
ter's camp, and delivered her message. 

It was now Lord Rawdon's turn to retreat, and he retired 
to Orangeburg. Not venturing to attack him here, Greene 
withdi-ew with his main army, for the unhealthy season, to the 
hillh: that border on the Santee. It was not long before Lord 
Rawdon took his departure for England, leaving Col. Stewart 
in command of his forces. At this time was enacted the 
melancholy tragedy of the execution of Col. Isaac Hayne, in 
Charleston. He was a patriot who had submitted to British 
rule to avoid being thrown into prison, but afterwards had 
taken up arms against the invadprs. Being captured, he was 
condemned to death by Col. Balfour, the commandant of 
Charleston. Many petitions were sent for mercy in his be- 
half, and his children, with tears, besought his life ; but in 
vain. 

In September, Gen Greene proceeded against the British 
forces, pursued them to Eutaw Springs, and en the Sth, en- 
gaged them in that bloody battle. This action may be said 
to have closed the war in thi^ Carolina^, the Biitish beino" 



282 DO.vIESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

forced to retire to Charleston, wliicb city and Savannah, were 
all they retained of their conquests in South Carolina and 
G-eorgia. The happy issue of the campaign, and the deliver- 
ance of the South, after a long and bloody contest, are to be 
ascribed to the energy and genius of Greneral Greene. 

The celebrated Col. Washington was wounded and taken 
prisoner at the battle of Eutaw Springs, and sent to Charles- 
ton. In the hospital there he first saw Jane Elliott, a young 
and beautiful girl, who, not content with giving a large por- 
tion of her property to establish hospitals and aid the wounded 
American soldiers, herself visited the sufferers in certain 
wards. His gratitude, and her sympathy for his misfortunes, 
laid the foundation for a lasting regard between them ; they 
pledged their faith to each other, and were married in the 
spring of 1782. 

In the meantime Lord Cornwallis marched on to Halifax. 
While in this neighborhood, it is said, the inflaence of one of 
his officers — Col. Hamilton — who had resided there before the 
war, did much to mitigate the evils usually attendant upon the 
march of a hostile force. He showed a regard to his old ac- 
quaintances, by inducing the qommander to forbid the molesta- 
tion of the persons or property of non-combatants. One of 
the most cruel tragedies enacted this summer was the murder 
of Dr. Alexander Gaston at Newbern He was one of the 
most zealous patriots in North Carolina — being a member of 
the committee of safety for the district where he resided, and 
serving in the army at various periods of the war ; and his 
devotion to the cause of freedom, while it secured the confi- 
dence of the whigs, gained him the implacable enmity of the 



CHAPTER XXV. 283 

opposite party. Ou the 20th of August, a body of tories en- 
tored Newbern, some miles in advance of the regular troops, 
who had, marched with a view of taking possession of the 
town. The Americans, taken by surprise, were forced to give 
way after an ineffectual resistance. Gaston, unwilling to sur- 
render, hurried his wife and children from their home, 
hoping to escape across the river, and thus retire to a planta- 
tion eight or ten miles distant. lie reached the wharf, and 
s-eized a light scow for the purpose of crossing the river. But 
before they stepped on board, the tories came galloping in 
pursuit. There was no resource but for him to push off froni 
the shore where his wife and little ones stood — she alarmed 
only for him. Throwing herself in agony at the feet of their 
enemies, she implored his life, but in vain. They sacrificed 
him in the midst of her cries for mercy — and the musket 
which found his heart was levelled over her shoulder ! Even 
then the indulgence of grief was denied her ; for she was 
compelled to exert herself to protect his remains. In her 
lonely dwelling she kept watch beside the beloved and lifeless 
form, till it was deposited in the earth. 

Proceeding northward, Cornwallis was met at Petersburg by 
Arnold with the troops of Gren. Phillips, who had died a few 
days before. Gen. La Fayette was employed in the defence 
of Virginia, but from want of sufficient force could do nothing 
to check the enemy's progress. Cornwallis moved into the 
interior and harassed the country, destroying much property, 
Col. Tarleton, with his corps of cavalry, made a secret expe- 
dition to Charlottesville, intending to capture the Virginia 
Legislature, and the Governor, Thomas Jefferson. His sue- 



284 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

cess was prevented by a patriotic stratagem. At the time of his 
march, it chanced that some of the members were at the house 
of Col. Walker, twelve miles from the town. This was di- 
rectly on the route, and the first intimation the family had of 
the enemy's approach, was the appearance of Tarleton's 
legion at their doors. Having secured a fevf of the legislators 
the British Colonel ordered breakfast. Mrs. Walker delayed 
the preparations for tho meal, for the purpose of enabling the 
members who had escaped to reach the town, give the alarm, 
and remove such portions of the stores as could be saved. 
Tarleton, thus baffled in the object of his expedition, returned 
to join the main army. 

In the midst of these movements towards the subjugation 
of the State, Lord Cornwallis was suddenly called to the sea- 
coast by Sir Henry Clinton. The Commander-in-Chief ex- 
pected that the combined French and American forces would 
attack New York, and wished Cornwallis to remain near the 
coast, that if necessary he might come speedily to his assist- 
ance. Cornwallis proceeded accordingly to Portsmouth, and 
thence to Yorktown, on the south side of York River. This 
place he proceeded to fortify. 

It was true that Greneral Washino-ton had desio;ncd to attack 
New York ; but he changed the plan in August, and after 
deceiving Clinton with the belief that New York was threat- 
ened, till it was too late to arrest his movements, marched 
southward with the allied army, and on the 30th of Septem- 
ber completely invested Yorktown A French fleet, com- 
manded by the Count de Grasse, had before this entered 
Chesapeake Bay, and blocked up the mouths of James and 



CHAPTER XXV. 285 

I'drk Eivcrs ; thus cutting off all communication between 
Vorktown and New York. La Fayette, joined by a large 
French force, was ready to prevent a retreat southward by 
laud. Cornwallis was thus enclosed without prospect of re- 
lief. An attempt to send him succor from New York was 
defeated. 

Sir Henry Clinton made a vain effort to check the advance 
of Washington in the beginning of his march, by sending Ar- 
nold, who had returned from Virginia, to ravage Connecticut. 
On the 6th of September, New London was burned, and a 
large amount of property was destroyed. A detachment was 
directed to attack Fort Griswold at Groton, on the opposite 
side of the river. AY hen it was taken by assault, no mercy 
was shown by the conquerors. Col. Leydard, who command- 
ed the fort, was slain in the act of surrender, with the sword he 
had placed in the hand of the commander of the assailants — 
and after an indiscriminate butchery, such of the prisoners aa 
showed signs of life, were thrown into a cart, which, heaped 
with mangled bodies, was started down a steep and rugged 
hill towards the river. Its course being interrupted by stones 
and logs, the victims were not precipitated into the water ; 
and, after the enemy had been driven off by the roused inha- 
bitants of the country, friends came to the aid of the wound- 
ed, and several lives were preserved. But their sufferings, be- 
fore relief could be obtained, were indescribable. Thiity-iive 
men, covered with wounils and blood, trembling with cold and 
parched witli thirst, lay all night upon the bare floor, almost 
Qopeless of succor, and looking to death as a d^'liverance from 
mtolciable anjruish. 



286 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

One instance of compassion is worthy of remembrance 
The morning after the massacre, a young woman left her 
home, three miles distant, and came in search of her uncle, 
who had joined the volunteers on the j&rst alarm of invasion, 
and was known to have been engaged in the disastrous con- 
flict. He was among those wounded unto death. His nieco 
found him in a house near the scene of slaughter, where he 
had shared the attention bestowed on the rest. His wounds 
had been dressed, but it was evident that he could bear no 
further removal, and that life was fast departing. StiU per- 
fect consciousness remained, and with dying energy he en- 
treated that he might once more behold his wife and child. 
Such a request was sacred, and the sympathizing girl lost no 
time in hastening home, where she caught and saddled the 
horse used by the family, placed upon the animal the delicate 
wife, whose strength could not have accomplished so long a 
walk, and taking the child herself, bore it in her arms the 
whole distance, and presented it to receive the blessing of its 
expiring father. 

The progress of the siege of Yorktown has been fully de- 
scribed in other works. An attempt to retreat on the part of 
the besieged was frustrated, and on the 19th of October the 
posts of Yorktown and Gloucester, with more than seven 
thousand soldiers, were surrendered to Washington, the ship- 
ping being delivered into the hands of De Grasse, Five days 
afterwards. Sir Henry Clinton arrived with an armament of 
seven thousand at the mouth of the Chesapeake, but being in- 
formed of the surrender, returned to New York. The alliec 
forces then separated. The Count De Grasse sailed for the 



CHAPTER XXV. 287 

West Indies ; the French army, under Rochambeau, waa 
cantoned daring the winter in Virginia, and the main body 
of the American army returned to its late position on the 
Hudson. A strong detachment, under Gren. St. Clair, was 
sent to the South to strengthen the forces of Gen. Greene. 

Thus the year 17S1, which had commenced with disasters 
in different parts of the country, ended in decisive success. 
The victory of Yorktown in effect recovered the whole coun- 
try. British power was now reduced to merely defensive 
measures, and limited to the posts of New Yoik, Charleston, 
and Savannah. The people manifested the greatest joy at 
this deliverance. The auspicious event was celebrated in va- 
rious places throughout the country. In acknowledgment of 
the Divine Power that had protected America, the members 
of Congress went in procession to the principal church in 
Philadelphia to return thanks, and the 13th of December was 
appointed a day of public thanksgiving and prayer. 

In the midst of exultation, however, courtesy to the van- 
quished was not forgotten. After the capture of Yorktown, 
the superior officers of the American army, with their allies, 
vied with each other in acts of civility and attention to the cap- 
tive Britons. Entertainments were given to them by nearly 
all the Major-Generals, and the other officers freely aided by 
contributing such meansas they possessed. In allusion, pro- 
bably, to expenditures of this kind, Col. Stewart, of New Jer- 
sey, said to his daughter on his return home — "Well, Martha, 
my dear, I come to you a thousand dollars out of pocket by 
the surrend(!r of Yorktown. But I care not The strugsrlo 
us over, and my country is free !" 



288 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The meetino; of Gen. Washino-ton with his venerabla 
mother, after the victory which decided the fortune of Amer- 
ica, is thus described by Mr. Gustis : " After an absence of 
nearly seven years, it was at length, on the return of the 
combined armies from Yorktown, permitted to the mother 
again to see and embrace her illustrious son. So soon as he 
had dismounted, in the midst of a numerous and brilliant 
suite, he sent to apprise her of his arrival, and to know when 
it would be her pleasure to receive him. She was alone — her 
aged hands employed in works of domestic industry, when the 
good news was announced ; and it was further told that the 
victorious chief was in waiting at the threshold. She wel 
comed him with a warm embrace, and by the well-remembered 
and endearing names of his childhood. Inquiring as to his 
liealth, she remarked the lines which mighty cares and many 
trials had made on his manly countenance — spoke much of 
>ld times, and old friends ; but of his glory, not one word ! 

" Meantime, in the village of Fredericksburg, all was joy 
Ji!id revelry. The town was crowded with officers of the 
French and American armies, and with gentlemen from all 
the country around, who hastened to welcome the conquerors 
of Corawallis. The citizens made arrangements for a splen- 
did ball, to which the mother of Washington was specially in- 
vited. She observed, that although 'her dancing days were 
pretty well over, she should feel happy in contributing to the 
general festivity, and consented to attend. 

" The foreign officers were anxious to see the mother of 
their chief. They had heard indistinct rumors respecting her 
remarkable life and character ; but forming their judgment 



CHAPTER XXV. 2S9 

from L^x-^.x-oii . xainplos, they were prepared to expect iu 
her that -^liro ^rJ bIiow wliicli would have been attached to 
tlie parents of the great in the old world. IIow were they 
surprised when the n:atron, leaning on the arm of her sou, 
entered the room ! She was arrayed in the very plain, yet 
becoming garb worn by the Virginia lady of the olden time. 
Her address, always dignified and imposing, was couiteous, 
though reserved. She roceived the complimentary attentions 
which were profusidy paid her, without evincing the slightest 
elevation ; and at an early hour, wishing the company much 
enjoyment of their pleasures, and observing that it was time 
for old people to be at home, retired, leaning as before on the 
arm of her son." 

Many of the French troops mai chcd to Boston before they 
embarked, in December, for their own country. Count Segur 
thus mentions their entrance and reception : " Before we en- 
tered Boston, our troops changed thtir dress in the open air, 
and in a short time appeared so well attired, it seemed incred- 
ible that this army, marching from Yorktown, could have 
travelled over such an extent of country, and have been ex- 
posed to all the inclemency of a rainy autumn, and a prema- 
ture winter. No review or parade ever displayed troops in 
better order, presenting a more imposing and biilliant ap- 
pearance. A larg3 part of the population of the town came 
out to meet us. The ladies stood at their windows and wel- 
comed us with th3 most spirited applause. Our stay was en- 
livened by continual rejoicings, f}tcs and balls suceecdins; 
each other day art{!r d.iy. 'riu^ attentions paid us sliowetl 
with equal sineciity scntiiiK'nts of joy at the triumph of 



290 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the allied armies, and of sorrow at our approaching depart 
ure." 

He says of Boston : " It may there be seen that refinement 
and republicanism are not incompatible ; for in no part of the 
country is a more agreeable society to be found. Europe no 
where offers to our admiration women adorned with greater 
beauty or elegance, with superior education, or more brilliant 
accomplishments, than the ladies of this place, such as 
Mesdames Jarvis, Tudor, and Morton. Mrs. Tudor, who 
was afterwards seen and admired in France, has become 
celebrated for her writings, so full of talent and wit. One of 
these, written in French, and remarkable for its elegance of 
style, was addressed to the Queen of France, Marie Antoi- 
nette, and was brought over and presented to that princess by 
the Marauis de Chastellux." 



CHAPTER XXYI. 

EARLY SETTLEMENTS AT THE WEST KENTUCKY 

TENNESSEE. 

The Western and North-western territory of the United 
States was an almost pathless wilderness at the commence- 
ment of the RevoliAtion. A few hardy adventurers had ex- 
plored its forests ; they were followed by a few woodsmen, 
who shouldered their rifles and plunged into the wilderness, 
and then came a wagon or two, slowly breaking its rough way, 
bearing families whom the hardships of frontier life had em- 
boldened to seek a new home. These enterprising pioneers, 
whose adventures shed a coloring of romance over the early his' 
tory of the whole region, braved perils we nowadays shudder 
even to hear of ; for they were forced to dispute the grounds 
they occupied with fierce tribes of Indians, The Shawanoes, 
Dclawarcs and Wyandots of the North, and the Chero- 
kees, Creeks, and Catawbas of the South, who often wagea 
bloody wars against each other, were alike disposed to meet 
with ferocious hostility the white men who dared invade the 
country thoy claimed. 

Kentuckv was first explored about the middle of the 
.ijhtcenth century. It was the red man's favorite hunting 



292 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

ground ; the strono-hold of fierce and warlike tribes. Daniel 
Boone, who penetrated the country in 1769, may be regarded 
as the earliest pioneer. The reports spread by his party 
through Virginia and North Carolina, of the fertility of the 
soil and other advantages excited much attention, and in 1772 
and 1773 permanent settlements began to be made west of 
the Alleghanies. In the summer of 1774, Harrcd built a log 
cabin on the spot where Harrodsburg now stands — the foun- 
dation of the earliest station. Boonsborough was founded in 
the following spring, and within two months the wife and 
daugh+ersof the pioneer — the fiist white women who ever stood 
upon the banks of the Kentucky River — came to take up 
their residence in the fort. This station, with Harrodsburg, 
became the nucleus of emigration and settlement, and the 
central object of Indian hostilities. 

Other families came in the same year to join the little colo- 
ny — and other cabins and forts were erected. The dangers to 
which the'new settlers"were exposed in the " dark and bloody 
ground," a:? the name "Kentucky" was interpreted — soon 
became apparent. In July, 1776, three young women were 
surprised by a party of Indians, carried captive, and recovered 
at a distance of forty miles. This was but the beginning of 
troubles. An invasion of the savages, shortly after Kentucky 
had been erected into a county by the legislature of Virginia 
drove the hunters and surveyors from the woods to take refuge 
in the forts. These withstood their assaults ; and " after 
eweeping through Kentucky like a torrent for several weeks, 
the ansfvy tide slowly rolled back to the north." But these 
perils did not prevent the continual arrival of reinforcements 




t)A f!! Jll' 'Mvvnii. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 293 

of settlers from North Carolina and Virginia. Even among 
the women, fear was less strong than the love of adventure. 
The wife of Whitley, one of the most distinguished of the 
eaily pioneers, to his observation that he had heard a fine re- 
port of Kentucky, and thought they could live thtire with lesa 
hard work — answered ; *' Then, Billy, I would go and see !" 
In two days he was on his way with axe and plough, and gun 
and kettle. Thus the stream of settlement flowed year after 
year. 

The pioneers were chiefly men who had encountered the dif- 
ficulties experienced in settling the frontiers of the colonies, 
and who were accustomed to deal with the Indians. Their 
primitive condition was scarcely less simple than that of the 
savages. The men built cabins, blockhouses, and forts ; 
hunted, cleared land and planted grain ; while the women 
milked, cooked the meat, pounded the corn or ground it in 
hand mills, and occasionally run bullets. Deer skins were 
used for garments. The hunting shirt, worn universally by 
the men, was made sometimes of this material, dressed, but 
generally of linsey or coarse linen. A wallet was stitched in 
the bosom, to carry bread or ammunition, and the belt or girdle 
held the bullet bag, and the tomahawk, or scalpiug-knife, worn 
by each hunter, who carried his long rifle in his hand. The 
leggins and moccasins were made of deer skin, and the com- 
mon shirt and jacket, and caps of native fur, completed tihe 
ordinary attire. 

Buffalo and bear skins served for beds. There being no 
shops or stores, almost every article in use was of home man- 
ufacture. The table furniture consisted of wooden vessels and 



234 DOMESTfC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION 

utensils, made or turned in the rudest manner. Iron forks or 
tin cups were extremely rare. The slab that served for a 
table was made of a flat piece of timber, split and roughly 
hewn, and rude benches formed the seats. If one desired his 
bed elevated above the floor or the ground, the bedstead was 
made by laying slabs across long poles, supported by forked 
poles driven into the ground ; or pieces of hewn timber were 
let into the sides of the cabin. The cradle was a small roll- 
ing trough like those used in collecting sap for maple sugar. 
Yet notwithstanding this simplicity in furniture, their food 
was the choicest of game, and the richest of milk and butter, 
partaken with a relish health and labor alone can give. The 
luxuriant pastures of the woods, whei-e the pea vine and the 
wild cane abounded, supplied the cattle with provender, and 
game was so abundant that buff'alocs were frequently shot 
merely for the tongues. But for this bountiful provision of 
nature the country could not have been maintained against the 
Indians, whose frequent depredations destroyed the fields. 
Hospitality, too, that virtue of a primitive society, was always 
cheerfully exercised. 

The West, thus filling with a hardy population, became 
year after year more interesting to the parties contending dur- 
ing the Revolutionary war. The different expeditions into 
that country soon aroused British jealousy ; for the govern- 
ment dreaded the influence of the pioneer leaders on the minds 
of their savage allies. The English commandant at Detroit 
sought to bring all the savage tribes under his control, and to 
incite them against the Americans. He urged them to hostile 
inroads by every incentive, and paid a price for the scalps 



CHAPTER XXVI. 29n 

brought ; wliilo an expedition of Indians and Canadians wa« 
prepared against the forts and stations. The fierce spirit of 
the barbarians of the forest thus stimulated by abundant sup 
plies of amniunitiou and liquors, furnished from north-western 
militar}' posts of the British — the terrors of their incursion 
were increased tenfold. The men, women, and children wero 
driven from their homes to take shelter in the forts, and these 
were kept in a continual state of alarm. The narrative of 
the perils and trials of the inhabitants, and of frequent seenos 
of bloody strife, embraces incidents of personal adventure 
more surprising than any romance. 

The name of George Rogers Clark, called by Randolpn 
" the Hannibal of the West," is conspicuous in the history of 
the conquest and settlement of the whole country. The bril- 
liant expedition planned by him was undertaken in the begin- 
ning of 1778, and conducted successfully by his heroism and 
perseverance. His party marched through trackless forests, 
over the region that now forms the State of Illinois, to the 
ancient French village of Kaskaskias, and took the town, with 
the British commandant. The French inhabitants submitted 
to the new power — transferring their allegiance to the govern- 
ment of the United States. The governor of the British forct^ 
in the north-west, furious at this invasion, collected an arm 7 
of safages, and made preparations to advance upon his ad- 
venturous enemy ; but before his project was ripe for exccu 
tion, Col. Clark marched boldly through the wilderness to liis 
citadel at Vincennes, and captured the governor and his gar 
rison. The whole count-ry was then subjected, and the con- 
quest achieved, which has been said to be the true basis of the 



296 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION 

claim of the United States to a northern boundary on the 
LaKGS. 

In 1779, many families removed to Kentucky from Virgi- 
nia and the neighboring States ; the hunters of the elk and 
buftalo being succeeded by more eager hunters for land. 
Their pursuits were carried on in the midst of Indian hosti- 
lities. The tide of emigration flowed yet more copiously in 
the two following years, notwithstanding that every portion of 
the country was continually kept in alarm by Indian ambushes, 
and their fields were often laid waste. The hostilities of the 
savages were not checked by the approach of peace. In 
August, 1782, a large army of warriors traversed the northern 
part of Kentucky, and appeared unexpectedly before Bryant's 
Station, near Lexington. An incident of this siege strikingly 
displayed the intrepidity of the western women. 

The garrison was supplied with water from a spring at some 
distance from the fort, near which a considerable body of the 
Indians had been placed in ambush. Another party in full 
view was ordered to open a fire at a given time, with the hope 
of enticing the besieged to an engagement without the walls, 
when the force at the spring could seize the opportunity of 
storming one of the gates. The more experienced of the gar- 
rison felt satisfied that Indians were concealed near the spring, 
but conjectured that they would not show themselves until 
the firing on the opposite side of the fort should induce them 
to believe that the men had come out, and were enciaored with 
the other party. The need of water was urgent, and yielding 
to the necessity »f the case, they summoned all the women. 
Explaining to them the circumstances in which they were 



ciiAPTCR xv':. . 297 

placed, and tlio improlaLility rliat any injury would ho offor- 
od them, until the firinn; liad hccn rotuincd fioni tin; (^])p()sito 
side of the fort, they urged tlieni to go in a hody to the 
spring, and hring up each a huckct full of "svator. They 
bad been in the habit of bringing water every morning, and 
should the men go at this time, it was feared that the Tndjans 
would suspect that their ambuscade was discovered, and would 
instantly rush upon them or shoot them at the spring. 

The boldest of the women at once declared their readiness 
to brave the danger, and the more timid rallying in their rear, 
they all marched down to tlie spring, within shot of hundreds 
of the enemy ! The steadiness and composure of their move- 
ments completely deceived the savages ; not a sliot was fired, 
and having filled their buckets, they brought them into the 
fort in safety. 

Ohio was in part settled by pioneers from New England. 
An anecdote of a young" widow, afterwards the wife of one of 
the early adventurers in the valley of the Ohio River, may 
serve for a picture of the common experience of those days. 
She was living in the spring of 1774 with her brothers on 
Grave Creek, and kept house alone while they were absent on 
their hunting excursions. Having been on a visit to her sister 
who resided at a distanr:; of fifty mili\s upon the banks of the 
Ohio, opposite Yellow Creek, she returned home, as she had 
gone, in a canoe by herself. Setting out in the afteinoon she 
paddled till dark ; then, knowing when the moon would rise, 
she landed, fastened her boat to the willows, and Liy In a 
clump of bushes near the shore, till the jnoou had cleared the 
tree tops. As she waded a few paces In the water to reach 



298 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the canoe, she trod on the dead body of an Indian, not long 
killed, whom she had not before seen. She did not scream, 
knowing it might be dangerous ; but stepping quietly into the 
boat, went on, and reached the mouth of Grave Creek early 
the next morning. 

>Tot long afterwards, while on her knees blowing the fire 
one morning, she heard steps, and looking round saw a tall 
Indian standing by her. He motioned her to be silent, and 
shook his tomahawk at her ; then looked around the cabin for 
plunder, and seeing her brother's rifle hanginn; on hooks ovor 
the fire place, seized it and departed. The young woman 
showed no fear while he was there, but as soon as he was 
gone left the cabin and hid herself in the corn till her brother's 
return. This Rebecca Williams was afterwards ftimous 
among the borderers of the Ohio River for her medical and 
surgical skill. 

The history of the trials and suflferings of the early settlers 
of Tennessee, in their years of bord'jr warfare with the Dela- 
wares, Shawnees, Creeks and Cherokees, exists only in the 
memory of a few of their descendants. Yet in the midst of 
these were enacted deeds of heroism and chivalry which might 
well challenge a comparison with those of Kentucky. About 
the year 1772, a few adventurous spirits in Virginia and 
North Carolina, allured by the tales told by hunters and trap- 
pers of beautiful valleys and meandering streams beyond the 
Alleghany mountains, sought new homes in the lovely valley 
of the Watauga, now the Holston River, in what is now Sul- 
livan County, East Tennessee. 

Among the earliest of these hardy pioneers were the Bled- 



CHAPTER XXVI. 299 

soes and the Shelbys, who settled twelve miles above the 
Island Flats. These first settlers were harassed continually by 
the hostile inroads of their savage neighbors ; scenes of bloody 
strife were common, and almost every dwelling was a fort ; 
yet the population of their settlements rapidly increased. In 
June, 1776, more than seven hundred Indian warriors advanc- 
ed on the settlements upon the Holston, and a battle, called 
the battle of Long Island, was fought near the Island Flats, 
in which the militia, commanded by Col. Bledsoe, routed the 
savages after a severe conflict. A constant succession of In- 
dian troubles marked the years succeeding. In 1779, Bledsoe 
and others crossed the Cumberland mountains, and explored 
the valley of the Cumberland River. Their alluring report 
of the country on their return induced many of the inliabi- 
tants of East Tennessee to make preparation for striking out 
still further into the wilderness, to establish a new colony 
west of the mountains. 

Gen. James Robertson, of North Carolina, in concert with 
Col. Donaldson, started from Watauga about the middle of 
December. Robertson led a land expedition, the object of 
which was to cross the mountains, proceed to a place then 
known as the Big Salt Lick, now Nashville, establish a fort, 
build houses and open fields. Donaldson conducted a flotilla 
of rudely constructed flat-boats, which, bearing the old men, 
women, and children, and the baggage of the pioneers, de- 
scended the Holston, for the purpose of following Tennessee 
River to some point beyond its pass through the mountains. 
Tlie land party was to join the flotilla somewhere on the great 
b 'ud of the Tennessee, and conduct them to their new home 



300 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

in the valley of the Cumbei-laad. It was a dark and fearful 
voyage, that descent of the Watauga and Tennessee, through 
the hunting grounds of the warlike Cherokees and Creeks. 
To daily attacks from the Indians, who from the shores of the 
narrow river fired on the voyagers as they descended the 
rapid current in their frail open boats, now and then boldly 
pushing out in their canoes to assault them, were added the 
dangers of the rapid and meandering stream, where sunken 
rocks and dangerous rapids threatened to engulf the frail barks 
in its boiling eddies. To aggravate these horrors, when the 
voyagers, their numbers reduced by disease and the murderous 
savages, reached the head of the Muscle Shoals, no sign could 
be discovered of G-en. Robertson Col. Donaldson and his 
party found themselves environed by dangers which might 
have unnerved the stoutest heart. An unexplored wilderness 
on either side, seven hundred miles of up-stream navigation 
behind them, with thousands of armed warriors ready to fall 
upon them, while in advance was heard the roar of the turbid 
waters as thoy dashed amongst the projecting rocks of the 
Muscle Shoals. It was a fearful alternative, but death was 
certain in the rear or on either flank, and after weighing well 
all the dangers of his situation, Col. Donaldson determined to 
descend the Tennessee to its mouth and attempt to reach 
the Big Salt Spring by the ascent of the Cumberland. 

On the 24th of April, 1780, four months and two days 
after leaving Watauga, those who survived of this adventurous 
pa.ity of pioneer voyagers reached the spot where Nashville 
now stands. Here they met their friends, who had succeeded 
in reaching the same place some weeks before Interesting 



CHAPTER xxvr. 301 

indeed was the re-union, but not without its sorrows ; for 
many a fatlicr, motlier, brother, sister, looked in vain for 
those they had hoped to meet. These parties of waywoin 
travellers, and two smaller ones, constituted the entire colony 
of Cumberland Valley, numbering less than five hundred 
Bouls, of whom one hundred and, fifty were all that were able 
to bear arms. From their arrival, for fifteen years, a bloody 
war was waged against them by the Creeks, Cherokees, and 
Shawnees. Thus driven at once into a state of war, every man 
became an aimed occupant, who held his life and his fort or 
blockhouse only by the strength of his arm. 

The settlers lived in forts, each containing half a dozm or 
more famili:'s, and were compelled to work their small fields 
with guns by their sides. Books, schools, churches, acade 
mies, they had none. Toil and danger were their only school- 
masters, and stern necessity their only pastor and lawgiver 
Capt. Ridley had established a small fort near Nashville, m 
which military rule was necessarily preserved, while variou*:' 
persons, pursuing the bent of their own interest, established 
others, in vrhieh they rallied their fi-iends and retainers to re- 
pel the as.saults of Indian marauders. In the space of thirty 
miles around Nashville were a dozen such forts, and in and 
around these were all the inhabitants of the valley. Of ne- 
cessity, social intercourse was kept up by occasional visits 
from one to another ; but the road being often rendered dan- 
gerous by Indian ambuscades, it required more than a conimoi 
share of bravery for small parties, especially of females, U 
Venture, though the distance between the forts was only two 
01- three miles. 



302 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

No brief notice like the preceding can convey an adequate 
Idea of the difficulties and dangers encountered by these early 
settlers ; but it may awaken curiosity to examine other re- 
cords. When hostilities ceased between Great Britain and 
the United States, other emigrants of exhausted fortunes, or 
who had spent their prime in fighting the battles of their 
country, sought homes in the west, in the expectation of peace 
and security. But the Indians at intervals continued their 
incursions. The settlements, notwithstanding, advanced in 
gtrength and prosperity, increasing every year, till they were 
able to claim admission as States into the Union 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

CONCLUSION". 

When the news reached England of the event that had 
finished the work of wresting America from British possession, 
it was met by a general expression throughout the whole nation 
of desire for peace. In May, 1782, Sir Guy Carleton, appoint- 
ed to succeed Sir Henry Clinton as Commander-in-Chief, 
arrived in New York, with instructions to terminate the war 
by amicable negotiation. Active hostilities between the two 
armies were suspended during this year ; though some skir- 
mishes, and many robberies, took place. Congress appointed 
John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and Henry Lau- 
rens Commissioners for the United States, to negotiate a 
treaty of peace. Preliminary articles were signed at Paris 
on the 30th of November, 1782. After the adjustment of 
affairs between Britain and France, the definitive treaty was 
signed on the third of September, 1783. By the terms of 
this treaty, the Independence of the United States was fully 
acknowledged, and the extent of territory conceded was equal 
to their most enlarged expectations. 

On the 19th of April, 1783, eight years from the battle of 
Lexington. 1 I"ormal proclamation of the cessation of hostilities 



304 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

was made to the American army. The news of peace wag 
everywhere received with joy. The army was disbanded by 
order of Congress on the 3d of November following. The 
arrears due the officers and soldiers, tind the wretched condi- 
tion of the finances, had caused difficulties which it was feared 
would inflame the discontent of the army into insurrection. 
But the prudence and firmness of General Washington avert- 
ed the danger ; the soldiers were persuaded to oppose all 
illegal proceedings for obtaining redress, and satisfactory ar- 
rangements were finally made . by Congress. The soldiers 
returned peaceably to their homes, to enjoy the blessings the 
toils of war had purchased. 

Savannah was evacuated by the British in July, 1782, and 
Charleston the 14th of December of the same year. It was ex- 
pected that New York, the last city occupied — where the 
British Commander-in-Chief had his head-quarters — would be 
evacuated by Sir Guy Carleton in August, 17S3. But the 
loyalists, remembering the cruelties they had exercised towards 
their countrymen — especially those whom the fortune of war 
had placed among them as prisoners — feared retribution after 
the departure of the British troops. Threats of retaliation, 
and denunciatory resolutions passed at whig meetings held in 
various parts of the country, alarmed them to such n degree, 
that they flocked in great numbers to New York, and claimed 
the protection of the British General. To transport so vast 
a body of exiles, with their families and effects, to Nova 
Scotia, the Bahamas, or Britain, required more shipping than 
lay in port. A delay ensued in consequence, while Car- 
leton r.crxt to the West Indies, and even to England for addi- 



CHAPTER XXVII. 305 

tional transports ; and it was not till the 2:3th of November 
that the last remnant of a foreign soldiery set foot on board 
their vessels 

Early on the morning of this day, the American troops, 
under the command of General Knox, marched from Hserlera to 
the Bowery Lane, where they took up their position. The 
citizens began to throng the thoroughfares, eager to partici- 
pate in the joyou.s excitement of the occasion. About tea 
o'clock an American guard relieved the British guard at the 
city prison, and the latter joined a detachment of British 
troops then on parade in Broadway, which wheeled into pla- 
toons and marched down to the Battery. There they era- 
barked in boats to go on board their shipping. At one o'clock, 
the British soldiers having abandoned their various posts, the 
American troops moved down the Bowery to take possession of 
Fort George at the Battery. General Knox, with a number of 
ofl&cers and citizens on horseback, then rode up to the Bowery 
to receive General Washington and Governor George Clinton, 
who, with their suites, made their public entry into the city 
on horseback, followed by the Lieutenant-Governor and 
Senators. The cavalcade proceeded to the Battery, whither 
orders had been sent to hoist the American flag at the Fort, 
and fire an appropriate salute. Some British underlings, 
however, had unreeved the halyards, knocked the cleats oflF 
the flag staff, and slushed it, so that it might be impossible for 
the Americans to hoist their banner before the British ship- 
ping should be out of sight. 

The Americans on the other hand, were anxious that their 
late enemies should see the colors of the United States wave 

2 A* 



306 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

over the city. Several persons made ineffectual efforts to 
climb the staff ; at length a sailor was furnished with a num- 
ber of cleats hastily prepared, with which he filled his pockets, 
and winding the halyards round his waist, and taking a ham- 
mer and nails in his hands, commenced his ascent, nailino^ the 
cleats on either side as he clambered up. Having reached the 
top, he reeved the halyards and descended, while amidst 
the loud huzzas of congregated thousands, and the thunder of 
artillery, in full view of the departing English, the stars and 
stripes were hoisted, and floated proudly on the breeze; the 
band at the same time striking up the national air of " Yankee 
Doodle." The intrepid sailor was not only welcomed with ac- 
clamations, but received a more substantial token of appro- 
bation in a contribution for his benefit among those present. 
This interesting scene over, the Commander-in-Chief and 
other general officers sat down to a public dinner given by the 
Governor at Francis' Tavern, at the corner of Wall and Nas- 
sau streets. On the following Tuesday, a brilliant display of 
fireworks was exhibited at the Bowling Creen. 

On the 23d of December, a scene of lofty moral grandeur 
was presented, by the appearance of Washington in the Hall 
of Congress at Annapolis, to resign his commission as Com- 
mander-in-Chief. In the presence of a large concours"§ of 
spectators, he delivered his simple and affectionate farewell 
address, commending the interests of his country to the pro- 
tection of Heaven, and taking his leave of the employments 
of public life. He then retired as a private citizen to his 
country-seat at Mount Vernon, followed by the heartfelt gra- 
tii-ude and affection of the whole nation. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 307 

Thus was American laJependcnce establislied. From this 
fortunate termination the most beneficial results were antici- 
pated, nut only for the United States, but for the whole civil- 
ized world. The nation newly founded was expected to culti- 
vate republican virtues which other nations might emulate. 
It was to exhibit the advantages of universal intelligence and 
progress. It was to illustrate the great principles which lie at 
the foundation of a people's true prosperity, and thus to over- 
throw the ancient systems of error and tyranny. 

In reviewing the events briefly sketched, it will be seen at 
how vast an expense of blood and suffering, of toil and trea- 
sure, was purchased the national freedom which, with its 
countless blessings, is our inheritance. The price was paid 
with a full reliance on the Divine protection for a righteous 
cause. Guizot says truly — " While they rebelled against the 
authority of the King and Parliament of Britain, they were 
submissive to the will of God and the precepts of the Gospel ; 
while struggling for independence, they were governed by the 
same faith which had brought their ancestors to this land." 
It will be seen, moreover, that the men and women of America 
during the Revolution, acted with one heart and one mind. 
In j:heir entire devotion to the cause — whether at the East, in 
the Middle States, or at the South — one spirit is seen to 
govern them. They thought not of sectional distinctions ; 
tbey felt and acted like brethren. It is this sanction of right, 
and this union of feelingjiiid interests, which throw a halo of 
moral sublimity around the perilous adventures and daring deeds 
50 thickly sown in the history of those times. Let all Amer 
icaiis wlio love t\ie.ir country ponder on the lesson conveyed 



308 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Let tbem clierish the unkn of these States, as they honoi 
Lue memory of those noble men who did and suffered so much 
to cement it. Let them never part with that precious legac" 
bought with their fathers' blood, and transmitted to them to 
be kept inviolate for their own children. For the security of 
this inestimable possession, let them sacredly preserve the 
spirit 0. disinterestedness, of patriotism, of religion — the 
seed of all that is good and elevated in the social life of the 
Republic. 



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the end." — The Home Circle. \ 

Countess Gisela. From the German of E. Marlitt ^ 
author of " Gold Elsie," etc. By Mrs. A, L. Wister. 
Third edition. i2mo. Cloth. ^1.50. 



est of the reader from the outset."^ 
Pittsburgh Gazette. 

" The best work by this author."— 
Philadelphia Telegraph. 



"There is more dramatic power in 
this than in any of the stories by the 
same author that we have read." — N. 
O Times. 

" It is a story that arouses the inter- 

Over Yonder. From the German of E. Marlitt, 

author of " Countess Gisela," etc. Third edition. With 

a full-page Illustration. 8vo. Paper cover. 30 cents. 

" ' Over Yonder ' is a charming | ant of the merits of this author will 
novelette. The admirers of ' Old ' f.nd in it a pleasant introduction to tho 
Mam'selle's Secret' will give it a glad i works of a gifted writer." — Daily Sen- 
reception, while those who are ignor- | tinel. 

The Little Moorland Princess. From the German 

of E. Marlitt, author of " The Old Mam'selle's Secret," 
" Gold Elsie," etc. By Mrs. A. L. Wister. Fourth edi- 
tion. i2mo. Fine cloth. $1.75. 

**By far the best foreign romance of I up to its balmy influence." — Ckicnit 
;he season." — Philadelphia Press. Evening Journal. 

" II is a great luxury to give one's self | 

Magdalena. From the German of E. Marlitt ^ 

author of " Countess Gisela," etc. And THE LoNELY Ones 

("The Solitaries"). From the German of I'aul Ilcyse, 

With two Illustrations. 8vo. Paper cover. 35 cents. 

"We know of no way in which a I either of these tales." — IndiamxpolM 
eisuie hour may be more pleasantly Sentinel. 
wfailed away ibau by a iterusal oi I 



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